by Jules Ruelle (1834 - 1892)
Translation © by Emily Ezust

Chanson andalouse
Language: French (Français) 
Available translation(s): ENG
Pourquoi chanter 
L'amoureuse ivresse ?
Pourquoi m'aimer ? 
Folle est ta tendresse !
Mon âme, un jour, 
S'endormit glacée
Après un ardent baiser.
La flamme meurt effacée ; 
Pourquoi m'aimer ?

Comme un vain songe, 
Un beau mensonge,
Ah ! Je garde l'ardent baiser ;
Pourquoi donc m'aimer ?

Aux coridas,
Dont Séville est fière.
Des Señoras
J'étais la première,
Et je riais quand à mon oreille
Un galant parlait tout bas.
L'amour toujours veille,
Il m'a surprise, hélas !

Aveu timide,
Heure rapide,
Ah ! Langueur du premier amour,
Volupté d'un jour !...

Et dans les bois
Je vais, oublieuse,
Et nulle voix
Ne me rend joyeuse.
J'ai froid au cœur et l'amour frivole
A pris mon premier baiser.
D'amour la chanson est folle,
Pourquoi m'aimer ?

Comme le rêve
Que l'aube achève,
Ah ! Tu fuis, volupté d'un jour,
Hélas ! sans retour !

Hélas ! pourquoi donc m'aimer ?


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Emily Ezust) , title 1: "Andalusian song", copyright © 2014

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2011-01-27
Line count: 38
Word count: 152

Andalusian song
Language: English  after the French (Français) 
Why do you sing 
About the exhilaration of love?
Why do you love me?
Your tenderness is absurd!
One day my soul
Fell into frozen slumber 
After an ardent kiss.
The flame faded and went out;
Why do you love me?

Like a pointless dream,
A lovely lie,
Ah! I save that ardent kiss;
Why do you love me?

At the bullfights,
Of which Seville is proud,
Of the señoras
I was the first,
And I laughed when, into my ear
A suitor spoke in a low voice.
Cupid is ever alert
And he surprised me, alas!

A timid confession,
A fleeting hour,
Ah! The languor of first love,
The exquisite pleasure of one day!

And in the woods
I walk, trying to forget,
And no voice
Gives me joy.
It is cold in my heart and frivolous love
Has taken my first kiss.
The song of love is absurd,
Why do you love me?

Like a dream
That dawn destroys,
Ah! You flee, pleasure of one day,
Alas! -- never to return!

Alas! Why then do you love me?


  • Translation from French (Français) to English copyright © 2014 by Emily Ezust

    Emily Ezust permits her translations to be reproduced without prior permission for printed (not online) programs to free-admission concerts only, provided the following credit is given:

    Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust,
    from the LiederNet Archive --

    For any other purpose, please write to the e-mail address below to request permission and discuss possible fees.

Based on


This text was added to the website: 2014-02-25
Line count: 38
Word count: 179