Pry`jshla v cerkvu stara baba, 
Svichok nakupy`la; 
De bula yaka ikona, 
Vsyudy` polipy`la. 
I shhe para ostayet`sya, 
De yix pry`lipy`ty`?... 
“Aga! — kazhe, — Poshukayu 
Svyatogo My`ky`ty`!” 
Najshla baba i My`ky`tu 
Svyaty`j chorta cipy`t`! 
Baba odnu jomu stavy`t`, 
Drugu chortu lipy`t`... 
Bachat` lyudy` j rozvazhayut`, 
Shhob tam ne lipy`la; 
“Shho ty`, babo, — kazhut`, — roby`sh? 
Tazh to vrazha sy`la!... 
Ale baba obernulas`: 
“Ne sudite, lyudy`! 
Nixto togo ne vidaye, 
De po smerti bude... 
Chy` u nebi, chy` u pekli 
Skazhut` vikuvaty`; 
Treba vsyudy`, dobri lyudy`, 
Pry`yatelya maty`”.