Love makes the world go round, especially that of the Eurovision and the national song contests that send it love letters. Tune in to the national festivals and you’ll be served a cocktail of love, from the jilted kind to the passionate yet unreturned, the forgotten and forgiven. On rare occasions, we’re treated to fulfilled love – but only rarely because, if it’s happy love, then why sing about it?

Let’s do a little exercise and have a look at the titles of the 20 semi-finalists for the Malta Eurovision Song Contest. There’s Ekklesia’s Love and Let Go, Lawrence Gray’s The One That You Love and Take Me As I Am by Domenique Azzopardi. Franklin Calleja’s Still Here is, of course, about love, and so is Corazon’s Secretly. We could go on with all the rest of the songs and somewhere, we’ll find love nestling between the lyrics’ lines.

But this love is not of the jealous kind – other national song festivals are lovesick, in a good way of course. Take our neighbour’s San Remo festival, for instance. This year, two out of the three finalists sang about love. In her song Controvento (upwind), the winner, Arisa, sang how, “Accanto a te viaggando controvento” (together with you, I will journey upwind). In third place, Renzo Rubino, in his song Ora (now), sings, “Ti porterò con me, insieme tra sette notine” (I will carry you with me, together with seven small musical notes).

Blame it on national song festivals and the Eurovision, you might argue. They have nothing to sing about except love. But is that really the case? The top single in the UK right now is Cheryl’s I Don’t Care, which is all about love spiked with revenge. In second place, Ed Sheeran sings how, “Darling, I will be loving you till we’re 70”. In third place is Meghan Trainor with All About That Bass – now this isn’t exactly the love song of the year, but if you think outside the proverbial box, you will make the connection. And in fourth place is John Legend who in his song All of Me, sings that, “You’ve got my head spinning, no kidding”.

If you take out the massive stage arenas, X Factor and the dubious fashion sense of Miley Cyrus, what you’re left with are singers who have been going on and on about love for centuries

Across the Atlantic, Taylor Swift is ruling the charts with Shake It Off, in which she doesn’t complain that, “I go on too many dates, but I can’t make them stay”. In third place, Tove Lo has to, “Spend my days locked in a haze, trying to forget you babe”. And in fourth place, Maroon 5 are, “Preying on you tonight”. Cheesy but, well, love brings out the inner lovesick puppy in all of us.

So in reality, it’s not just the Eurovision that is in love with love: most pop songs are after a romantic date. And yet, this isn’t a modern phenomenon. After all, the 21st century is like most other centuries – it just wears different clothes and goes to different parties. So if you take out the massive stage arenas, X Factor and the dubious fashion sense of Miley Cyrus, what you’re left with are singers who have been going on and on about love for centuries. Western thought has been largely influenced by Greek and Roman thought. The philosophy of love, especially, has classical roots: from the Platonic theory of the eros to Aristotle’s detailed discussion of philia, our eternal questions to determine the nature of love find various answers in ancient treatises.

However, it is the Middle Ages and the troubadour tradition that inform our concept of romantic love. The troubadour tradition took root in the late 11th century in southern France, and spread to Italy and Spain. Similar movements started in other countries: the German minnesingers (love poets) and trovadorismo in Portugal and Spain.

In their golden age, troubadours toured the courts of Europe, singing about chivalry and love. There were various genres, from the alba, a morning song, to the escondig, a lover’s apology, and the maldit, a song complaining about a lady’s behaviour. And if you wanted to be really specific, you could sing a pastorella, in which a knight would request the love of a shepherdess.

The conventional formula was simple and the theme recurrent: a knight, a nobleman or a poet who is dying for his lady’s love. Then throw in some of love’s more popular side dishes: secrecy, jealousy, blackmail and a hint of vulgarity. Salvation is rare because the male actor has either fallen in love with a faraway princess, or even one who doesn’t exist, dies, or rather enjoys the feeling of unreciprocated love: if the princess actually responded to his love, it would spoil all his fun.

At the turn of the 13th century, the art of the troubadours started its slow decline and eventually died out around the mid-14th century, when Europe had a real sickness – the Black Death – to worry about. And yet, the sentiments of the troubadours persist. Because while Jaufre Rudel and Arnaut Daniel may have sang about love more than eight centuries ago, nowadays we have their modern counterparts echoing the same sentiments.