In March 1939, a 23-year-old Billie Holiday walked up to the mic at
West 4th's Cafe Society in New York City to sing her final song of the night.
Per her request, the waiters stopped serving and the room went completely black,
save for a spotlight on her face. And then she sang, softly in her raw and
emotional voice: "Southern trees bear a strange fruit, Blood on the leaves and
blood at the root, Black body swinging in the Southern breeze, Strange fruit
hanging from the poplar trees..."
When Holiday finished, the spotlight turned off. When the lights came back
on, the stage was empty. She was gone. And per her request, there was no encore.
This was how Holiday performed "Strange Fruit," which she would determinedly
sing for the next 20 years until her untimely death at the age of 44.
Holiday may have popularized "Strange Fruit" and turned it into a work of
art, but it was a Jewish communist teacher and civil rights activist from the
Bronx, Abel Meeropol, who wrote it, first as a poem, then later as a
song.Meeropol came across a 1930 photo that captured the lynching of two Black
men in Indiana. The visceral image haunted him for days and prompted him to put
pen to paper.
Fruto extraño
Los árboles del sur dan un fruto extraño
Sangre en las hojas y sangre en la raíz
Cuerpos negros balanceándose en la brisa del sur
Frutos extraños colgando de los álamos
Escena pastoral del sur gallardo
Los ojos saltones y la boca torcida
Aroma de magnolias, dulce y fresco
Entonces el repentino olor a carne quemada
Aquí hay una fruta para que los cuervos la cojan
Para que la lluvia se junte, para que el viento la chupe
Para que el sol se pudra, para que el árbol se caiga
Aquí hay una cosecha extraña y amarga.
