Verse 1
My mother is weary, her breath is a sigh,
The nightingale’s silent — its nest left to die.
May God grant us strength to endure all this pain,
And the viburnum rise from its branches again.

Let the wide fields be golden with bread,
Let blue skies shine bright where the fire once spread.
We love Ukraine with the depths of our soul,
No land on this earth can make us feel whole.

Verse 2
Those who have wandered the paths far and wide
Know that your heart brings you home as your guide.
Though the view may be lovely, the soul will not sing,
There’s no sweeter place than your own native spring.

Ukraine, our homeland, the dearest, most true,
If there is a heaven — it lives here in you.
Your freedom and glory we’ll never betray,
No harm shall befall you — not ever, not today.

Verse 3
Ukraine will flourish, her trident will gleam,
The bravest in Europe, she lives through the dream.
Among all the leaders, the faces we see,
You’ve shown your great strength, and what it means to be free.

The orchards will bloom, and the storks will descend,
And hundreds of legends in poems won’t end.
Your fame will reach lands where no flags ever flew,
They’ll know what it means — a true Cossack soul, too.