i have a dream

　　i have a dream

　　《我有一個(gè)夢(mèng)想》(I have a dream)是馬丁·路德·金于1963年8月28日在華盛頓林肯紀(jì)念堂發(fā)表的著名演講，內(nèi)容主要關(guān)于黑人民族平等。對(duì)美國(guó)甚至世界影響很大，被我國(guó)編入中學(xué)教程。

　　i have a dream 作者介紹

　　1968年4月4日黃昏，馬丁·路德·金在洛蘭賓館306房間陽(yáng)臺(tái)散心時(shí)遇刺身亡，終年39歲。他是美國(guó)黑人民權(quán)運(yùn)動(dòng)領(lǐng)袖，浸禮會(huì)教堂牧師，非暴力主義者。1929年1月15日出生于佐治亞州亞特蘭大市一黑人家庭，父親和祖父都是浸禮會(huì)的傳教士。早年就讀于亞特蘭大的莫爾豪斯學(xué)院社會(huì)學(xué)系，19歲畢業(yè)后加入浸禮教會(huì)。1951年和1954年又先后畢業(yè)于賓夕法尼亞州切斯特市的克羅澤神學(xué)院和波士頓大學(xué)。1954年在蒙哥馬利城的德克斯特大道浸禮會(huì)教堂任職。1955年獲得博士學(xué)位。此后他積極參加和領(lǐng)導(dǎo)美國(guó)黑人爭(zhēng)取平等權(quán)利的斗爭(zhēng)，一生三次被捕，三次被判刑。1956年他領(lǐng)導(dǎo)蒙哥馬利改進(jìn)協(xié)會(huì)，組織黑人進(jìn)行抵制公共汽車(chē)歧視黑人的斗爭(zhēng)。全城5萬(wàn)黑人拒乘公共汽車(chē)385天，迫使最高法院宣布在交通工具上實(shí)施種族隔離為非法。1957年幫助建立黑人牧師組織—南方基督教領(lǐng)袖大會(huì)，并任該會(huì)首任主席。1963年8月率領(lǐng)25萬(wàn)黑人向華盛頓林肯紀(jì)念堂“自由進(jìn)軍”，1964年獲諾貝爾和平獎(jiǎng)。他極具演說(shuō)才能，并著有《闊步走向自由》《我們?yōu)楹尾荒茉俚却返戎鳌Ｆ渌枷雽?duì)60年代美國(guó)黑人民權(quán)運(yùn)動(dòng)產(chǎn)生了重大影響。遇害時(shí)，他正準(zhǔn)備幫助孟菲斯黑人清潔工人組織罷工。當(dāng)時(shí)他在旅館陽(yáng)臺(tái)上與同伴們談話，被刺客詹姆斯·厄爾·雷用槍擊中。刺客得手后竄逃出境，6月8日在倫敦機(jī)場(chǎng)被捕，后被判處99年徒刑。金的遇刺觸發(fā)了黑人抗暴斗爭(zhēng)的巨大風(fēng)暴。4月4日到6日，全美一百多個(gè)城市爆發(fā)騷亂。

　　美國(guó)政府確定從1986年起每年一月的第三個(gè)星期一(金的誕辰為1月15日)為全國(guó)紀(jì)念日。從1987年起馬丁·路德·金的誕辰亦為聯(lián)合國(guó)的紀(jì)念日之一。

　　i have a dream　英文原文

　　I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the 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 daybreak to end the long night of their 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 languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

　　In a sense we've 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, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable 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 "insufficient 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. And so, we've 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 promises 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. And 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. And 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 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 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 a 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 they have come to realize that 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, "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. 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 the Negro's basic mobility is from 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 signs stating "for whites only." 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 jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- 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 South Carolina, 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.

　　And 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 and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

　　I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the 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, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands 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, and 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, and this is the faith that I 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.

　　And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:

　　My 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!

　　And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

　　And 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 snow-capped 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.

　　And 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:

　　Free at last! Free at last!

　　Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!