Spochatku bulo Slovo, i Slovo bulo v Boha,
I Bohom bulo Slovo, i Pisneyu bulo!
Tu Pisnyu my shukayemo, a moze vze y spivayemo,
Vpravlyayem ruky-nohy usim smertyam nazlo!
Kochaymosya, brattya, bo my toho varti!
Ta y Boh nas polyubyv tak, shcho Chrysta za nas viddav!
I u selach u veselych budut' lyudy vsi veseli,
I kyyany-chrystyyany, shchob vas chort povik ne vzyav!

Pryspiv:
Ty misto Boha Svyatoho, Zyvoho!
Ty misto zdiysnennya mriy!
Nu, yak tebe ne lyubyty, Kyyeve miy!

Mayze 100 rokiv vbyvaly prorokiv
Kaminnyam i vminnyam u sferi demahohiyi,
Ta Boh nechay sudyt', bo vsich uze nudyt'
Vid idoliv, lozunhiv ta hohiyi-mahohiyi!
A my lyubymo Boha, spivayem na ves' Kyyiv,
Shchob blahovistu dzvony pochuly het' usi!
Nemaye kordoniv dlya pisni ta dzvoniv,
Dolayem perepony, – ce chreshchennya Rusi!

Pryspiv