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 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!
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今天，我高兴地同大家一起，参加这次将成为我国历史上为了争取自由而举行的最伟大的示威集会。
100年前，一位伟大的美国人——今天我们就站在他象征性的身影下——签署了《解放宣言》。这项重要法令的颁布，对于千百万灼烤于非正义残焰中的黑奴，犹如带来希望之光的硕大灯塔，恰似结束漫漫长夜禁锢的欢畅黎明。
然而，100年后，黑人依然没有获得自由。100年后，黑人依然悲惨地蹒跚于种族隔离和种族歧视的枷锁之下。100年后，黑人依然生活在物质繁荣翰海的贫困孤岛上。100年后，黑人依然在美国社会中间向隅而泣，依然感到自己在国土家园中流离漂泊。所以，我们今天来到这里，要把这骇人听闻的情况公诸于众。
从某种意义上说，我们来到国家的首都是为了兑现一张支票。我们共和国的缔造者在拟写宪法和独立宣言的辉煌篇章时，就签署了一张每一个美国人都能继承的期票。这张期票向所有人承诺——不论白人还是黑人——都享有不可让渡的生存权、自由权和追求幸福权。
然而，今天美国显然对她的有色公民拖欠着这张期票。美国没有承兑这笔神圣的债务，而是开始给黑人一张空头支票——一张盖着“资金不足”的印戳被退回的支票。但是，我们决不相信正义的银行会破产。我们决不相信这个国家巨大的机会宝库会资金不足。 因此，我们来兑现这张支票。这张支票将给我们以宝贵的自由和正义的保障。
我们来到这块圣地还为了提醒美国：现在正是万分紧急的时刻。现在不是从容不迫悠然行事或服用渐进主义镇静剂的时候。现在是实现民主诺言的时候。现在是走出幽暗荒凉的种族隔离深谷，踏上种族平等的阳关大道的时候。现在是使我们国家走出种族不平等的流沙，踏上充满手足之情的磐石的时候。现在是使上帝所有孩子真正享有公正的时候。
忽视这一时刻的紧迫性，对于国家将会是致命的。自由平等的朗朗秋日不到来，黑人顺情合理哀怨的酷暑就不会过去。1963年不是一个结束，而是一个开端。
如果国家依然我行我素，那些希望黑人只需出出气就会心满意足的人将大失所望。在黑人得到公民权之前，美国既不会安宁，也不会平静。反抗的旋风将继续震撼我们国家的基石，直至光辉灿烂的正义之日来临。
但是，对于站在通向正义之宫艰险门槛上的人们，有一些话我必须要说。在我们争取合法地位的过程中，切不要错误行事导致犯罪。我们切不要吞饮仇恨辛酸的苦酒，来解除对于自由的饮渴。
我们应该永远得体地、纪律严明地进行斗争。我们不能容许我们富有创造性的抗议沦为暴力行动。我们应该不断升华到用灵魂力量对付肉体力量的崇高境界。 席卷黑人社会的新的奇迹般的战斗精神，不应导致我们对所有白人的不信任——因为许多白人兄弟已经认识到：他们的命运同我们的命运紧密相连，他们的自由同我们的自由休戚相关。他们今天来到这里参加集会就是明证。
我们不能单独行动。当我们行动时，我们必须保证勇往直前。我们不能后退。有人问热心民权运动的人：“你们什么时候会感到满意？”只要黑人依然是不堪形容的警察暴行恐怖的牺牲品，我们就决不会满意。只要我们在旅途劳顿后，却被公路旁汽车游客旅社和城市旅馆拒之门外，我们就决不会满意。只要黑人的基本活动范围只限于从狭小的黑人居住区到较大的黑人居住区，我们就决不会满意。只要我们的孩子被“仅供白人”的牌子剥夺个性，损毁尊严，我们就决不会满意。只要密西西比州的黑人不能参加选举，纽约州的黑人认为他们 与选举毫不相干，我们就决不会满意。不，不，我们不会满意，直至公正似水奔流，正义如泉喷涌。
我并非没有注意到你们有些人历尽艰难困苦来到这里。你们有些人刚刚走出狭小的牢房。有些人来自因追求自由而遭受迫害风暴袭击和警察暴虐狂飙摧残的地区。你们饱经风霜，历尽苦难。继续努力吧，要相信：无辜受苦终得拯救。 回到密西西比去吧；回到亚拉巴马去吧；回到南卡罗来纳去吧；回到佐治亚去吧；回到路易斯安那去吧；回到我们北方城市中的贫民窟和黑人居住区去吧。要知道，这种情况能够而且将会改变。我们切不要在绝望的深渊里沉沦。
朋友们，今天我要对你们说，尽管眼下困难重重，但我依然怀有一个梦。这个梦深深植根于美国梦之中。
我梦想有一天，这个国家将会奋起，实现其立国信条的真谛：“我们认为这些真理不言而喻：人人生而平等。”
我梦想有一天，在佐治亚州的红色山岗上，昔日奴隶的儿子能够同昔日奴隶主的儿子同席而坐，亲如手足。 我梦想有一天，甚至连密西西比州——一个非正义和压迫的热浪逼人的荒漠之州，也会改造成为自由和公正的青青绿洲。
我梦想有一天，我的四个小女儿将生活在一个不是以皮肤的颜色，而是以品格的优劣作为评判标准的国家里。
我今天怀有一个梦。
我梦想有一天，亚拉巴马州会有所改变——尽管该州州长现在仍滔滔不绝地说什么要对联邦法令提出异议和拒绝执行——在那里，黑人儿童能够和白人儿童兄弟姐妹般地携手并行。
我今天怀有一个梦。
我梦想有一天，深谷弥合，高山夷平，歧路化坦途，曲径成通衢，上帝的光华再现，普天下生灵共谒。 这是我们的希望。这是我将带回南方去的信念。有了这个信念，我们就能从绝望之山开采出希望之石。有了这个信念，我们就能把这个国家的嘈杂刺耳的争吵声，变为充满手足之情的悦耳交响曲。有了这个信念，我们就能一同工作，一同祈祷，一同斗争，一同入狱，一同维护自由，因为我们知道，我们终有一天会获得自由。
到了这一天，上帝的所有孩子都能以新的含义高唱这首歌：
我的祖国，可爱的自由之邦，我为您歌唱。这是我祖先终老的地方，这是早期移民自豪的地方，让自由之声，响彻每一座山岗。 如果美国要成为伟大的国家，这一点必须实现。因此，让自由之声响彻新罕布什尔州的巍峨高峰！
让自由之声响彻纽约州的崇山峻岭！
让自由之声响彻宾夕法尼亚州的阿勒格尼高峰！
让自由之声响彻科罗拉多州冰雪皑皑的洛基山！
让自由之声响彻加利福尼亚州的婀娜群峰！
不，不仅如此；让自由之声响彻佐治亚州的石山！
让自由之声响彻田纳西州的望山！
让自由之声响彻密西西比州的一座座山峰，一个个土丘！
让自由之声响彻每一个山岗！
当我们让自由之声轰响，当我们让自由之声响彻每一个大村小庄，每一个州府城镇，我们就能加速这一天的到来。
那时，上帝的所有孩子，黑人和白人，犹太教徒和非犹太教徒，耶稣教徒和天主教徒，将能携手同唱那首古老的黑人灵歌：
“终于自由了！终于自由了！感谢全能的上帝，我们终于自由了！”
博文
