I_Have_A_Dream(原文与译文)

I Have A Dream

by Martin Luther King, Jr,

Delivered

on

the

steps

at

the

Lincoln

Memorial

in

Washington

D.C.

on

August

28,

1963.

Source: Martin Luther King, Jr: The Peaceful Warrior, Pocket Books, NY 1968

Five

score

years

ago,

a

great

American,

in

whose

symbolic

shadow

we

stand

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 daybreak to end the long night of captivity. But one hundred years later, the Negro still is

not free.

One

hundred

years

later,

the

life

of

the

Negro

is

still

sadly

crippled

by

the

manacles

of

segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely

island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the

Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own

land.

So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. In a sense we have come to

our

nation's

capital

to

cash

a

check.

When

the

architects

of

our

republic

wrote

the

magnificent

words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory

note to which every American was to fall heir.

This

note

was

a

promise

that

all

men

would

be

guaranteed

the

inalienable

rights

of

life,

liberty,

and

the

pursuit

of

happiness.

It

is

obvious

today

that

America

has

defaulted

on

this

promissory

note

insofar

as

her

citizens

of

color

are

concerned.

Instead

of

honoring

this

sacred

obligation,

America

has

given

the

Negro

people

a

bad

check,

a

check

which

has

come

back

marked

funds

But

we

refuse

to

believe

that

the

bank

of

justice

is

bankrupt.

We

refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation.

So we have come 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 engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the

tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy. Now is

the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice.

Now

is

the

time

to

lift

our

nation

from

the

quicksands

of

racial

injustice

to

the

solid

rock

of

brotherhood. Now is the time to make 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 until there is an invigorating autumn of

freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty- three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the

Negro needed 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 tranquility in America until the Negro is

granted his citizenship rights.

The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright

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 gaining 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 itterness 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 physical violence. Again and again we must rise

to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to

distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here

today,

have

come

to

realize

that

their

destiny

is

tied

up

with

our

destiny

and

their

freedom

is

inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march

ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights,

will you be satisfied?

smaller

ghetto

to a

larger one. We

can never

be

satisfied

as

long

as our bodies,

heavy

with

the

fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We

cannot

be

satisfied

as

long

as

a

Negro

in

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 satisfied

until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

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 cells. Some of you have come from areas where your

quest for freedom left

you

battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of

police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith

that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go

back to the slums and ghettos 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 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 and live out the true meaning of its creed:

day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will

be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of

Mississippi, a state sweltering 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 little children

will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the

content of their character. I have a dream today.

I

have

a

dream

that

one

day

the

state

of

Alabama,

whose

governor's

lips

are

presently

dripping

with

the

words

of

interposition

and

nullification,

will

be

transformed

into

a

situation

where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white

girls and walk together as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day

every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be

made

plain,

and

the

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 have to go back

to the South with. With 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 jail 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 with a new meaning,

country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the

pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.

this must become true. So let freedom 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 peaks 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

this happens.

When we allow 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,

are free at last!

我有一个梦想（马丁

·

路德

·

金）

一百年前，

一位伟大的美国人签 署了解放黑奴宣言，

今天我们就是在他的雕像

前集会。

这一庄严宣言犹如灯塔的光芒，

给千百万在那摧残生命的不义之火中受< /p>

煎熬的黑奴带来了希望。

它之到来犹如欢乐的黎明，

结束了束缚黑人的漫漫长夜。

然而一百年后的今天，我们必须正视黑人还没有得到自由这一 悲惨的事实。

一百年后的今天，

在种族隔离的镣铐和种族歧视的 枷锁下，

黑人的生活备受压榨。

一百年后的今天，

黑人仍生活在物质充裕的海洋中一个穷困的孤岛上。

一百年后

的今天，

黑人仍然萎缩在美国社会的角落里，

并且意识 到自己是故土家园中的流

亡者。今天我们在这里集会，就是要把这种骇人听闻的情况公诸 于众。

就某种意义而言，

今天我们是为了要求兑现诺言而汇集到我们国家的首都来

的。

我们共和国的缔造者草拟宪法和独立宣言的气壮山河的词句时，

曾向每一个

美国人许下了诺言。

他们承诺给予所 有的人以生存、

自由和追求幸福的不可剥夺

的权利。