Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Strange Fruit

Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

Billie Holiday Sings


Blogger Radio Vampiro said...

Hello there, thank you for all the information on your website. I'm curretly teaching a class at UCSC and we are reading from Benito Cereno, Frederick Douglass and ending with Beloved. We are talking about slavery and segregation. Today I played Strange fruit interpreted by Billie Holliday (a poem by Abel Meeropol, adoptive father of the Rosenberg's kids)
Thanks again

2:07 AM  
Blogger jenny said...

Hey there! thanks for visiting my site, I'm glad you find it useful. Your students are very lucky. Best wishes!

10:35 AM  

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