미국의 명언설
- 첨부파일0
- 추천수
- 1
- 조회수
- 1403
▶ 음성 파일을 재생하시려면 마우스 좌측 보턴으로 다음을 클릭하시고, 저장하시려면 마우스 우측 보턴으로 다음을 클릭하신 후 ‘다른 이름으로 대상 저장'을 선택하세요:
Martin Luther King, Jr.
"I Have a Dream"
delivered
[AUTHENTICITY
CERTIFIED: Text version below transcribed directly from audio. (2)]
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.
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,
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
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
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
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."2
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
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of
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
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
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!3
출처: http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/mlkihaveadream.htm
게시물수정
게시물 수정을 위해 비밀번호를 입력해주세요.
댓글삭제게시물삭제
게시물 삭제를 위해 비밀번호를 입력해주세요.