The Enduring Echoes of Love’s Frailty in a Sea of Tradition
The collaboration between the ethereal voice of Emmylou Harris and the clear, unwavering soprano of Joan Baez on the traditional folk song “The Water Is Wide” is a moment of pure, reflective beauty, though it does not correlate to a single, easily traceable commercial chart position as a joint release. This timeless ballad, which often goes by its ancient title “O Waly, Waly,” is a piece of traditional Scottish folk music, related to the Child Ballad “#204,” and its history stretches back centuries, with printed versions appearing as far back as the 1720s. The version we cherish today, often attributed to the collection work of Cecil Sharp in Folk Songs From Somerset (1906), is not a new song for either of these folk giants; both had explored its depths in their own solo careers, with Joan Baez recording it as early as her Very Early Joan album (1982), which contained recordings from her 1961-1963 tours, and Emmylou Harris including a rendition on her 1985 album, The Ballad of Sally Rose.
The power of this particular performance lies in the beautiful interweaving of their distinct, yet complementary, voices, a collaboration that often arises in live settings or compilation albums—a gentle joining of two pillars of American folk and country music. While it didn’t generate a headline-grabbing chart ascent like a modern pop hit, its place in the emotional landscape of folk music is unimpeachable, much like the slow, steady flow of a river that outlasts the rush of a passing tide.
The story behind “The Water Is Wide” is the ageless human drama of love, loss, and disillusionment. It uses the simple, evocative language of nature to paint a picture of betrayal and regret. The lyrics speak of a great, uncrossable body of water—a metaphor for the immense obstacles and emotional distance that can divide lovers. The opening lines, “The water is wide I cannot get o’er / Neither have I wings to fly,” capture a feeling of profound helplessness, a desperate yearning for a true love that feels out of reach. This sentiment, of a relationship fraught with peril and difficulty, resonates deeply with older listeners who have navigated their own vast, uncharted waters of life and love.
The most poignant imagery comes with the verse about the oak: “I leaned my back against an oak / Thinking it was a mighty tree / But first it bent and then it broke / So did my love prove false to me.” This speaks to the shattering realization that a love once thought strong and reliable proved fragile. The oak, a symbol of strength and endurance, fails under the weight of trust, perfectly illustrating how the human heart can be mistaken in its certainties. The song’s enduring meaning is a beautiful, melancholic meditation on the ephemeral nature of passionate romance—”love grows old and waxes cold / And fades away like morning dew.” For those of us who have lived long enough to witness the rise and fall of our own personal ‘mighty trees,’ the song is a bittersweet, knowing nod to the universal experience of emotional vulnerability.
The simplicity of the tune and the raw, unvarnished truth of the words are what make the collaboration between Emmylou Harris and Joan Baez so affecting. It’s a testament to their deep-rooted respect for the tradition and their mastery of conveying profound emotion with minimal ornamentation. Listening to them sing it is like recalling a memory from a time when songs were passed down like heirlooms, their meaning deepening with each generation. It’s the sound of two extraordinary women, not performing, but simply being—witnesses to the long, heartbreaking history of the human heart.