Hai, țurai, pă ulița dorului,Cât ai mere, tină nu-i,Numa' crește troscoțălDe ți-i drag a mer' pe el, măi.
Hai, țurai, la Ileana Budului,Leagănă-să lampa-n cui,Leagănă-să lampa-n cuiDe dorul mândruțului, măi
Hai, țurai, mândră-i gura ta, izvor,Nu de apă, că-i de dor,Mândră, ochii tăi îs lai,Nu știu p-a cui samă i-ai, măi
Hai, țurai, mama mi-o făcut ochii,Moare badea după ii,Mama m-o făcut guraDulce ca ceteruica,Mama m-o făcut guraDulce ca ceteruica, măi
Hey, țurai, on love street,As much as you walk on it, there’s no mud there,But only low-grass grows there,And one loves to walk on it.
Hey, țurai,, at Ileana Bud’s place,The lamp rocks hanged on a fastener,The lamp rocks hanged on a fastenerBecause of longing for one’s lover.
Hey, țurai, your mouth is so beautiful, a source,Not a source of water, but of yearning.My dear, your eyes are back,I don’t know whom you inherited them from.
Hey, țurai, my mother has given me my eyes,My dear loves them so much,My mother has given me my mouthAs sweet as the violin,My mother has given me my mouthAs sweet as the violin.