Beautiful sun will rise
A new day is born
The night will go to its kingdom
A cuckoo will sing
The world will come to life again
Let the wave of my songs fly through the valley
Let it carry my faith
About the fate of the Cossacks
About the brave glorious will
Field is covered with poppies
Stars are silent and clear
Herbs are washed with dew
Tell me, little moon your loud thoughts
Summer gentle wind
My sadness disappears
Somewhere the river hides
My body and soul
Silver light and pain in my eyes
Hey Petrivnyaya cuckoo
Don’t sing early in the woods
Don't wake me up
