(written by M. Okun)
(Esther Ofarim, 1963)
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Oh waly, waly, up the bank
And waly, waly down the braes,
And waly, waly by yon burnside
Where my true love and I would lie.
I leaned my back in some young oak
Thinking it was a mighty tree,
But first it bent and then it broke,
Just as my love was false to me.
Must I be bound when he goes free
must I love a lad, who don't love me
Must I be born with so little art
and love a boy, who'd break my heart.
Oh waly, waly, up the bank
And waly, waly down the braes,
And waly, waly by yon burnside
Where my true love and I would lie.