Mon Arbre [English translation]

He took root by chance

In our back yard without realising it,

Like a blind man in the dark.

My tree.

He was so small

That he was my friend

When I was just as small,

Like him.

I waited for him in the Spring

With two or three silvery flowers *

A few green, a few white,

My tree.

And my life attached itself

To this little tree

Which was growing up

As I was growing up.

I knew that with a little love

And with a little water every day

He would bring beauty to the yard. **

My tree

He reached up with joy

Right over my roof

To touch the sun

With his fingers.

When the gift of Spring arrived

The whole yard looked at him

Wondering where he would go,

My tree.

But I knew well

That he would go far,

That he would climb up to the sun,

At least.

One day I had to go off and earn a living

I travelled, I worked

But I didn't forget him,

My tree.

If I returned home,

And if he is still there,

Who knows if he would recognise me now,

My tree, my tree, my tree...

• Artist:Gilbert Bécaud