Za dumoyu duma royem vylitaye;
Odna davyt' serce, druha rozdyraye,
A tretyaya tycho, tychesenko plache
U samomu serci, i nichto ne bachyt'.

Komu z yiyi pokazu ya,
I chto tuyu movu
Pryvitaye, uhadaye
Velykeye slovo?
Vsi ohluchly – pochylylys'
V kaydanach... bayduze...
Ty smiyeshsya, a ya plachu,
Velykyi miy druze.
A shcho vrodyt' z toho plachu?
Bolyholov, brate...
Nechay, brate. A my budem
Smiyat'sya ta plakat'.