Relativo

Es recurrente. Cuando me despierto y este cuerpesito parece ajeno o el sol no basta para des-desolarme, busco sentirme pequeño e irrelevante. Encontrar algunas cosas que no son relativas y que contienen una parte de lo que me parece maravilloso en el mundo: belleza, dolor, historia...

Esta canción siempre lo consigue:




La Letra:

"Southern trees bear 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 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 wind to suck,

For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,

Here is a strange and bitter crop".

La razón: