Pryspiv:
Oy, oy, oy
I do dushi prystalo,
Oy, oy, oy,
I nashe ridne salo,
Oy, oy,
Zakusky krashchoyi nemaye,
Hey, nalyvay, dusha spivaye!
Oy, oy, oy,
I nashe ridne salo,
Oy, oy, oy,
Tebe ne bude malo,
Oy, oy
Z toboyu nash narod hulyaye,
Hey, nalyvay, dusha spivaye.

Znov doroha povela
Vid sela i do sela,
De cvite kartoplya na horodi,
de ukrayins'ke salo,
De ukrayins'ke salo zavzdy v modi,
Salo yim, na sali splyu,
Bo ya tak yoho lyublyu,
Ot yakby shche salom ukryvavsya,
To yak u masli ya b kupavsya.

Pryspiv

Ukrayins'kyi talisman,
Vikovichnyi nash talant,
Zavzdy symvol syly i dostatku,
Bude salo, bude vse v poryadku.
Chay kabanchyky rostut',
Chay bahatstvo nam dayut',
Shchob my vsi zyly, yak bochky v sali,
Shchob ne znaly horya i pechali.

Pryspiv