Southern trees bearing a 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 magnolia sweet and fresh 

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh. 





Here is a fruit for the crow to pluck 

For the rain to wither, for the wind to suck 

For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop 

Here is a strange and bitter crop.