《我有一个梦想》英文演讲稿

我有一个梦想

其著名演讲《I have a dream》

Delivered on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C. on August 28, 1963. Source: Martin Luther King, Jr: The Peaceful Warrior, Poc ket Books, NY 1968

正文如下:

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as th e greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybr eak to end the long night of bad captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred y ears later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of se gregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Ne gro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of mate rial prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. Whe n the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constituti on and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory not e to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that al l men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unal ienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note i nsofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacre d obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check whi ch has come back marked "insufficient funds". But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insuffic ient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have com e to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to e ngage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradua lism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit p

ath of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to mak e justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass u ntil there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-t hree is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro neede d to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranq uility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwi nds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the b right day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of ga ining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physica l violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has eng ulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white peopl e, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here toda y, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahe ad. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. W e can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of t ravel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of t he cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is fr om a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by si gns stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro i n Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfie

d until justic

e rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty strea m.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Som e of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you batte red by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brut ality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work wit h the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghett os of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up, live up to the tru e meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all me n are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of fo rmer slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down to gether at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state swe ltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation wher e they will not be judged by the color if their skin but by the content of th eir character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day down in Alabama with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day ri ght down in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join ha nds with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill a nd mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and t he crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. Wit h this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to j ail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing wit h new meaning.

My country, ’ tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing:

Land where my fathers died,

Land of the pilgrims’ pr ide,

From every mountainside

Let freedom ring.

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let fr eedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York!

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi!

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God almighty, we are free at last!”