Oy u poli mohyla
Z vitrom hovoryla:
"Poviy, vitre buynesenkyi,
Shchob ya ne zmarnila.

Shchob ya ne zmarnila,
Shchob ya ne chornila,
Shchob na meni trava rosla
Ta shche y zelenila."

I viter ne viye,
I sonce ne hriye, –
Tilky v stepu pry dorozi
Trava zeleniye.