Originally Posted By: BranShea
None of them are really cheering you up much, but it's strong; it's still beautiful.


I guess thats why they call it "The Blues"
Meeropols poem would have been less sucessful in any other musical genre as the music also stems from the slavery era and prior.

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 the 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.