In the shadows of the night.
Under the dark southern moonlight;
As the cool wind blows;
On the Magnolia tree strange fruit still grows.
Fertilized by hatred and watered with fears.
The old pale gardener stands near.
Waiting to plant more racist seeds;
So that more brown bodies hang as the blooms on the trees.
It is 2015 and many things have change.
While other things have remain the same.
As sure as the wind blows.
In the Magnolia State strange fruit still grows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem