O, Hospody, Prechysta Matir Boza,
Ce z za yakyi takyi smertelnyi hrich
Na chuzyni strazdaye branec' kozen,
Shcho vilnym vchora buv sered svoyich?

Des' tam za morem tuzyt' z horya maty
I syvyi bat'ko dyvyt'sya u dal,
Yak yim bez mene viku dozyvaty?
Yak vynesty taku hirku pechal?

Pryspiv:
Navishcho matusya mene porodyla?
I rozumu bat'ko navishcho navchav?
Naviky proshchay, Ukrayinonko myla,
O, rode miy hrishnyi, naviky proshchay.

Divoche tilo skupane v lyubystku
I vyplekane soncem i doshchem,
Osyplet'sya yak lystya padolystu,
Krasu i niznist' vysmokche harem.

Nashcho meni na sviti dali zyty?
V shcho viryty, nadiyatys' na shcho?
To krashche zaraz v mori utopytys',
Zyttya moye vze vidteper nishcho.

Pryspiv (2)