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 selfevident： 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 a table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi， a desert state， sweltering with the heat of injustice and 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 inter position 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 with which I return to the South. 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. “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 mountaiside， let freedom ring.”
And if America is to be a great nation， 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 feedom 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 every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside， let freedom ring.
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！”
22
Three Days to See
假如给我三天光明
All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year； sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak， of course， of free men who have a choice， not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set us thinking， wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events， what experiences， what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings？ What happiness should we find in reviewing the past， what regrets？
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with gentleness， a vigor， and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those， of course， who would adopt the epicurean motto of “Eat， drink， and be merry，” but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune， but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values， It has often been noted that those who live， or have lived， in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
Most of us， however， take life for granted. We know that one day we must die， but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health， death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks， hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
The same lethargy， I am afraid， characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing， only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily， without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it， of not being conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life.
Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight； silence would teach him the joys of sound.