Odnoho tumanoho ranku,
Koly sonce schodyt' tak povoli,
Pislya bytvy pid Krutamy
Vmyrav yiyi molodshyi syn,
Muzno, yak voyin.
Kriz' slozy vona
Y s'ohodni chuye yoho holos.

Ma, yakshcho b prozyty znov zyttya,
Yakshcho b miy shlyach ne mav kincya,
Yakshcho b vohon ne has v sercyach,
To ya, to ya b use viddav lyshe,
Shchob obiynyaty znov tebe.

Ostannya posmishka polynula
Ta zastyhla na yoho oblychchi,
Zyttya promaynulo v
Odnu myt' pered ochyma.
Nemov u dytynstvi yoho
Torknulysya ruky materi,
I u svoyi ostani chvylyny
Vin pochuv yiyi plach.

Miy syn, yakshcho b vernuty chas nazad,
Yakshcho b ne slozy na ochach,
Yakshcho b zdolaty sviy strach,
To ya, ya b viddala use lyshe,
Shchob obiynyaty znov tebe.

Yakshcho b vernuty chas nazad,
Yakshcho b ne slozy na ochach,
Yakshcho b zdolaty sviy strach,
Yakshcho b prozyty znov zyttya,
Yakshcho b miy shlyach ne mav kincya,
Yakshcho b vohon ne has v sercyach.
Nechay, stotysyach rokiv proyde shche,
Shchob obiynyaty znov tebe.