.Dans les jardins de l'Alhambra
Au ciel brûlant d'Andalousie, le soleil luit,
La ville paraît endormie, plus aucun bruit,
Ou donc sont les belles
Que l'amour appelle ?
Et dans tout Grenade
Pas de sérénade !
Le jour s'enfuit, voici la nuit,
On chante on rit,
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