Oi ty, dube kucheryavyi [2]

Oi ty, dube kucheryavyi,
Lyst na tobi ryasnyi.
Ty kozache chornobryvyi,
Slova z tvoyi krasni.

Slova tvoyi prekrasniyi,
No chortova dumka.
Poky-m tebe ne ljubyla,
Bula-m, yak holubka.

Bula z by ya holubkoyu,
Poletila v pole,
Sila-m sobi krai dorohy,
Hore z meni, hore!

Naishla z bo ya kubelechko,
De vutka nesetsya.
Chuyu z bo ya mezy ljudy –
Vrazyi syn smiyetsya.

Smiisya, smiisya, vrazyi synu,
Za smih tobi bude –
Izhynesh ty na pisochku,
De vody ne bude.

Choch ya tobi ne dam lyha,
To dast moya titka,
Izisohnesh, iziv’yanesh,
Yak rutyana kvitka.

Choch ya tobi ne dam lyha,
Dadut tobi ljudy,
Bude tryasty sim lit tryascya,
A smerti ne bude.