Little black bird don't hover,
for all you bring is death.
I know your wrecked soul seeks vengance,
there's no gleeful singing for you!
But why must you hover, and why so close?
Should I go take cover, or will I let you land on me?
Come little black bird, land on my shoulder.
For I shall not be afraid, I do not fear you, but within me
you shall find the key to liberate your wrecked soul.
No longer shall you cry, there will be no thoughts of
vengance, and sing you shall...the most gleeful song ever heard.
Fly to me little black bird, for I shall not fear you
I shan't pity you,
I shall not judge you
Free you I shall, help you I will
Hurry little black bird, for it is soon that your wrecked soul
will be trapped forever.
But if you hurry, help you I shall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem