作品原文

Martin Luther King, Jr. - I Have a Dream

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 self-hood 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!”

中文译文

我有一个梦想
马丁·路德·金

100年前，美国的一位伟人，签署了《解放宣言》；今天，我们就站在他的纪念像前面，对成千上万在水深火热中挣扎、饱受屈辱的黑奴来说，这庄严的法令，是他们伟大的希望之灯塔，是他们凌受奴役的长夜终于破晓的欢乐之曙光。

但是，在100年后的今天，我们仍必须正视严峻的现实：黑人并没有获得自由。在100年后的今天，黑人仍然悲惨地生活在种族隔离和种族歧视的桎梏之下。在100年后的今天，黑人依旧生活在贫困的孤岛上，四周被浩瀚的物质财富的汪洋大海所包围。在100年后的今天，黑人依然被扔在美国社会的角落里任其消亡，成了自己国土上地流民。因此，我们今天在这里集会，正是为了让人们更清楚地看到这种骇人听闻的惨况。

我知道，在你们中间，有些人是历尽千辛万苦才来到这里的；有些人是刚从狭窄的牢房里释放出来的；有些人则来自一些地区，在那里，你们因追求自由而痛遭无情的暴风雨般的摧残，而警察的暴行又使你们深为惊慌不安。长期以来，你们饱尝了无穷无尽的和各种各样的苦难，成了经久考验的老战士。继续奋斗吧，你们要坚信，蒙受的不白之苦总是要偿还的！

回到密西西比去，回到亚拉巴马去，回到南卡罗来纳去，回到佐治亚去，回到路易斯安娜去，回到北方城市的贫民窟去；因为，我们坚信，目前的这种状况一定能改变，也一定要改变。我们不应在失望的深渊中逡巡不前！

朋友们，今天我要告诉你们，尽管我们当前屡遭挫折，身处逆境，我仍然有一个梦想，这是深深地根植于美国梦中的一个梦想。

我有一个梦想，有一天，我们这个国家将会起来维护并真正实践她自己的信念：“人人生而平等，此乃不言而喻之真理。”

我有一个梦想，有一天，在佐治亚州的红土山上，昔日奴隶的儿子能够同昔日奴隶主的儿子将同桌而坐，畅叙兄弟的情谊。

我有一个梦想，有一天，甚至那倍受屈辱和迫害的密西西比州，也将改造成为自由和公正的绿洲。

我有一个梦想，有一天，我的四个孩子将生活在这样的国家里，在那里，判断他们的准则将不是他们的肤色，而是他们的道德品质。

今天，我有一个梦想。

我有一个梦想，有一天，亚拉巴马州的黑人男女儿童，将和白人男女儿童像兄弟姐妹一样携手并行。尽管，甚至在今天，这个州的州长还口口声声地扬言拒绝实施联邦政府的法律。

今天，我有一个梦想。

我有一个梦想，有一天，峡谷将会填高，大山将会铲低，崎岖的山乡将改造成平原，转弯抹角的地方将整顿得端正笔直。上帝的灵光将会再现，而全人类都将共睹这神圣的光轮。

这就是我们的希望，这就是我回到南方去所抱的信念。有了这种信念，我们将能在绝望之山上砍下希望之石块。有了这种信念，我们将能把我们因民族不和而发出的刺耳的噪音，改编成为一首优美的友谊交响乐。有了这种信念，我们将共同劳动，齐声祈祷，共赴患难，团结一致，为自由而并肩战斗。因为，我们深信，总有一天，我们将获得自由。

到那一天，当上帝的子孙们唱起下面这首歌的时候，就赋予了新的意义：

“魏哉吾祖国，自由幸福邦。吾歌吾赞美：祖辈存忠骨，移民之骄傲。一曲自由歌，响彻万山冈。”

如果美国想成为伟大的国家，这个理想就一定要实现。那么，让自由的歌声响彻新罕布尔巍峨的山颠！

让自由的歌声响彻纽约州的崇山峻岭！

让自由的歌声响彻宾西法尼亚高高的阿勒格尼山脉！

让自由的歌声响彻科罗拉多的白雪覆盖的群山！

让自由的歌声响彻加利福尼亚美丽的山峰！

而且，还要让自由的歌声响彻佐治亚的石头山！

让自由的歌声响彻田纳西的了望山！

让自由的歌声响彻密西西比的大山小丘！

让自由的歌声响彻每一座山冈！

当我们让自由的歌声响彻云霄时，当我们让自由的歌声响彻每一座大小村庄、每一个州和每一座城市时，我们就能使自由平等的一天早日来临；到那时，上帝的后裔、白人和黑人、犹太教徒和异教徒、耶稣教徒和天主教徒，将手携手同声高唱古老的黑人《圣歌》：“自由了！终于自由了！感谢上帝，我们终于自由了！”