Miz horamy chodyt' legin,
A divchyni snyt'sya,
Shcho zayshov za chmary
I nayshov vin chary –
Shovkovu kosycyu.

A chto z kvitku tu zustrine
Zradyt' ne posmiye.
Ya ne viryu dyvu
Stane toy shchaslyvyi,
Chto kochaty vmiye.

Ya leginya, a ne chariv
Budu z hir chekaty
Chom ze meni snyt'sya
Shovkova kosycya,
Shcho cvite v Karpatach.