Yalla Yalla
Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Mi rotze et hapitgam
Ve’al prusa lichyot
Mi rotze et hapitgam
Lihyot o lo lihyot

Mi sho’el et kol hami
Im tov lo bekalut
Mi sho’el et kol hami
Im chov lo bachanut

La’avod kmo chamor
Bashuk uvamisrad
Uvechdei lichyot me’at
Lifshot gam et hayad

Avoda hi avoda
Lecha gam vegam li
Ma sheba bematana
Oseh rak chor badli

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Mi matza et hamenucha
Ve’od nish’ar avud
Ve’et atzmo merov simcha
Tala al ha’amud

Mi matza et hamenucha
Ve’od nish’ar avud
Ve’et atzmo merov simcha
Tala al ha’amud

Avoda hi avoda
Lihyot o lo lihyot
Avoda hi avoda
Rak ten siba lichyot

Avoda hi avoda
Lihyot o lo lihyot
Avoda hi avoda
Rak ten siba lichyot

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Al titbayesh lomar lah
Lamut me’ahava lah
Umeneshika shel ma’ala

Yalla Yalla
Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above

Who wants the proverb
And to live on a crust of bread?
Who wants the proverb
To be or not to be?

Who asks all the “who”
If he is well off easily?
Who asks all the “who”
If he owes a debt at the shop?

To work like a donkey
In the market and the office,
And just to live a little
To stretch out the hand as well.

Work is work,
For you and also for me;
What comes as a gift
Only makes a hole in the bucket.

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above

Who found rest
And still remained lost,
And himself from too much joy
Hung upon the pole?

Who found rest
And still remained lost,
And himself from too much joy
Hung upon the pole?

Work is work,
To be or not to be;
Work is work,
Just give a reason to live.

Work is work,
To be or not to be;
Work is work,
Just give a reason to live.

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above

Yalla, yalla, yalla
Don’t be ashamed to tell her
To die for love of her
And from a kiss from above