My Ukrainian language, Holy Martyr. Your eternally resounding word Our hearts grow. There's Kalinovo Kvitne, Viplecane and purer, Mile and painfully dear, Language for the soul is ours. You've been kicked more than once Twist and vasali. They were praised and praised, Ale ti was resurrected. I lived in the purest hearts, Strengthened by prayers And before the dawn of time, Movo, you were with us. You are like a gift from God, You are like the crown of the city. Damn your road Daughter of her people. Go, get through the thorns, My Ukrainian language, I believe it brings filth Your word is everlasting.
