Lofty ones and blue,
Finest in the world, and holiest,
Forgive me, I pray God.
For so I love my poor Ukraina,
I might blaspheme the holy God,
And for her lose my soul.
On a curve of lofty Traktemir
A lonely cottage like an orphan stands, [[99]]
Ready to plunge from off the height
To loved Dnieper, far below.