Nay, thou art not dead, Ukraine,
See, the glory’s born again,
And the skies, O brethren,
Smile once more!

As in Springtime melts the snow
So shall melt away the foe,
And we shall be masters
Of our homes.

Soul and body, yea, our all
Offer we at freedom’s call —
We, whose sires were mighty
Cossack braves.