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Zarodylys' v nashom zhyty

 

Harvest Song, Rivne Region Ukraine

Zarodylysʹ v nashom zhyty y  vuzhynki, 

A v nashoho khazyayina obzhynky. 

Zarodyvsya v nashom zhyty y  dubochok, 

Da y splyetemo khazyayinu  vyenochok

Zarodylasʹ v nashom zhyty metlitsa,

Dayte nashym zhenchykam  shchosʹ napitstsa. 

– Khazyayinu, khazyayinu, ne  lyakaysya, 

Da na vyechor harelochky  

prystaraysa. 

Da na vechor harelochky  

solodenʹkoy, 

Da y dlya mene, da y dlya mene,  molodenʹkoy. 

Oy zhenchyky, oy zhenchyky, do  kontsa, 

Da y poyedem dodomonʹku do  skhod sontsa.

Poetic Translation: 

In our rye, snakes were born, And it is harvest time for the master of the house. 

In our rye, an oak tree was born And we will plait a wreath for the master of the house. 

In our rye, small butterflies were born, 

Give our harvesters something to drink. 

Master of the house, master of the house, do not be afraid. 

Try to bring us some booze by the  evening time. 

Some sweet booze in the evening For me, for a young person like me. 

Oh harvesters, oh harvesters, Come to the edge, 

And we will return home before the sun rises.

Phrase by phrase Translation

Zarodylysʹ v nashom zhyty y

Born in our rye 

 vuzhynki, 

snakes 

A v nashoho khazyayina 

And at our master of the house

obzhynky 

harvest time 

Zarodyvsya v nashom zhyty y

Born in our rye  

dubochok, 

oak tree 

Da y splyetemo khazyayinu

And plait for master of the house

vyenochok. 

wreath 

Zarodylasʹ v nashom zhyty 

Born in our rye  

metlitsa, 

Small butterflies

 

Dayte nashym zhenchykam

Give our harvesters

 

shchosʹ napitstsa. 

something to drink

 

– Khazyayinu, khazyayinu, 

Master of the house, master of the  house, 

ne lyakaysya, 

don’t be afraid 

Da na vyechor harelochky  

And in evening booze 

prystaraysa. 

try to bring

 

Da na vechor harelochky

And in evening booze

 

solodenʹkoy, 

sweet

 

Da y dlya mene, da y dlya mene,

And for me, and for me 

molodenʹkoy. 

a young person 

Oy zhenchyky, oy zhenchyky, 

Oh harvesters, oh harvesters

do kontsa, 

to the edge

 

Da y poyedem dodomonʹku 

And we will go home

 

do skhod sontsa. 

before rising sun