My bird don’t want one thing but the fear that rules his soul.
I offered him my garden and offered him my corncrib.
I offered my heart as he sang in the night, and
I learned that it’s a sin to love a mockingbird.
My bird don’t sing one thing but the songs he overheard,
and softly chirps a sparrow’s sweet promise to be faithful.
If only my bird would just love like a sparrow
it wouldn’t be a sin to love a mockingbird.
My bird don’t let one thing but despair come near his heart.
He swoops down on the housecats and worries all the robins
and pecks at my soul when I reach out to hold him.
Believe me, it’s a sin to love a mockingbird.
My bird don’t do one thing but make music I enjoy-
He don’t eat up my garden and don’t nest in my corncrib.
He don’t do one thing but to sing-song my heart out
and that’s why it’s a sin to love a mockingbird.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.