Southern trees bear strange fruit. Blood on the leavers 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 bulding eyes and the
twisted mouth. Scient of magnolies, sweet and fresh then the sudden smell of
burning flesh. Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck. For the rain to gatter,
for the wind to suck, for the sun to rot, for the tree to drop. Here is a
strange and bitter crop.
Billie
Holiday - 1939
Tempera acrilica su tela 80x60 cm |
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