Strange Fruit کے بول

Southern trees bearing strange fruits Blood on the leaves, blood at the roots Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze There are strange fruits hanging from the poplar trees Pastoral scene of the gallant south Them big, 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 winds to suck For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop Here is a strange and bitter crop 1