On his guitar, he had engraved a rose In the dark wood, a little flower, barely closed Like a hope, a memory of something An old story, of which we didn't know much On his guitar, he had engraved a star In the dark wood, framed by two initials When we asked him what it meant He only replied with a big smile Nobody knew where he really came from But when he sang his songs to us softly We all wanted to see him as a friend When we told him, he smiled On his guitar, he had engraved a rose In the dark wood, a little flower, barely closed Like a hope, a memory of something An old story, of which we didn't know much On his guitar, he had engraved a star In the dark wood, framed by two initials When we told him, he smiled On his guitar, he had engraved a star When I think of him, I often feel sorry For not having dared to tell him, I love you On his guitar, he had engraved a rose In the dark wood, a little flower, barely closed Like a hope, a memory of something An old story, of which we didn't know much On my guitar, I had engraved a rose In the dark wood, a little flower, barely closed Like a hope, a memory of something Une vieille histoire qui ne veut plus dire grand chose Sur ma guitare, moi j'ai fait graver une étoile Dans le bois noir encadré de ses initiales Si vous me demandez ce que cela veut dire Je ne vous répondrai que par un grand sourire