I Have A Dream
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr Lyrics

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation.
One hundred years ago, a remarkable American, who we still revere today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation, which brought hope to millions of enslaved African Americans.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free.
However, after a century has passed, African Americans still do not have true freedom.

One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.
Even after a century, African Americans continue to suffer from the oppressive bonds of segregation and discrimination.

One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity.
Even after all this time, African Americans find themselves in poverty while surrounded by immense material wealth.

One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land.
Despite the passing of a century, African Americans are still marginalized within American society and feel like strangers in their own country.

And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
Therefore, we have gathered here today to bring attention to this disgraceful situation.

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check.
In a way, we have come to the capital of our nation to demand what is rightfully ours.

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.
The founders of our nation, when they composed the powerful words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, made a promise that every American would inherit certain rights and privileges.

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.'
This promise ensured that all individuals, regardless of their race, would have the undeniable rights of life, freedom, 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.
It is clear today that America has failed to fulfill this pledge when it comes to citizens of color.

Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked 'insufficient funds.'
Rather than fulfilling this sacred duty, America has provided African Americans with an empty promise that cannot be cashed.

But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.
Nevertheless, we choose not to accept that justice in our country is completely lost.

We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation.
We reject the notion that there is a shortage of opportunities in this great 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.
Therefore, we have come to claim what is rightfully ours, which is the wealth of freedom and the assurance of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now.
We have gathered at this sacred place to emphasize the immediate and pressing need for action.

This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism.
Now is not the moment to indulge in the comfort of inaction or to be pacified by slow progress.

Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy.
Now is the opportune moment to bring to life the commitments 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 emerge from the depths of segregation and move towards the bright road 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 rescue our nation from the sinking sand of racial inequality and establish a firm foundation of unity.

Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
Now is the time to turn justice into a tangible existence for every individual, as we are all children of God.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment.
It would be dire for our nation to ignore the criticality of this juncture.

This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality.
This intense summer of justified dissatisfaction among African Americans will not subside until a revitalizing season of freedom and equality arrives.

Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning.
The year 1963 does not signify a conclusion but rather a commencement.

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.
Those who believe that African Americans simply needed to release their frustration and will now be satisfied will face a harsh reality if our nation reverts to its normal state.

And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights.
There will be no peace or calm in America until African Americans are granted the full rights of citizenship.

The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
The storms of rebellion will persist, shaking the very core of our nation, until the radiant dawn of justice finally appears.

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.
However, I must address my fellow African Americans who are on the verge of taking their rightful position in the halls of justice: in our pursuit, we must avoid committing unjust acts.

Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We should not attempt to quench our desire for freedom by indulging in the poison of resentment and animosity.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.
We must always carry out our fight with elevated dignity and unwavering self-control.

We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence.
We must not let our innovative forms of protest dissolve into acts of physical aggression.

Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
Repeatedly, we must ascend to the majestic pinnacle of combating physical violence with the power of the soul.

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.
The impressive new determination that has taken hold of the African American community should not breed distrust towards all white individuals, as shown by the fact that many of our white brethren, present among us today, have recognized that their fate is intertwined with ours.

And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
Furthermore, they have understood that their own liberation is inseparably connected to our liberation.

We cannot walk alone.
We cannot progress in isolation, solely on our own.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
And as we move forward, we must vow to always advance.

We cannot turn back.
We cannot retreat or regress.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, 'When will you be satisfied?'
Some individuals question those dedicated to the cause of civil rights, asking when they will consider themselves content.

We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality.
We can never experience satisfaction as long as African Americans continue to endure the unspeakable atrocities 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 can never be content as long as we, exhausted from our journeys, are denied accommodation in roadside motels and urban hotels.

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.
We cannot be content as long as an African American in Mississippi is disenfranchised and another in New York feels that there is nothing worth casting a vote for.

No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until 'justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.'¹
No, we are not content, and we will not rest until justice flows freely like water and righteousness surges like a powerful river.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations.
I am aware that many of you have come after enduring significant challenges and hardships.

Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells.
Some of you have recently been released from cramped 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.
And others have arrived from regions where your pursuit of freedom has left you wounded by the onslaught of persecution and overwhelmed by the force of police brutality.

You have been the veterans of creative suffering.
You have become seasoned warriors through enduring various forms of creative torment.

Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Persist in your efforts with the belief that undeserved suffering has the ability to bring about redemption.

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.
Return to Mississippi, return to Alabama, return to South Carolina, return to Georgia, return to Louisiana, return to the impoverished areas of our northern cities, all while maintaining the faith that this situation can and will be transformed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
I urge you today, my friends, to refrain from sinking into the depths of desolation.

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.
Even though we encounter the challenges of both the present and the future, I still cling to a profound dream—a dream firmly grounded in the ideals of 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 envision a future where our nation will emerge and fully embody the genuine significance of its principles: 'We believe that all individuals are inherently 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 aspire to a time when, upon the crimson slopes of Georgia, the descendants of former slaves and the descendants of former slave owners will be able to gather together harmoniously in unity.

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 envision a future where even the state of Mississippi, currently simmering with the intense heat of injustice and oppression, will undergo a profound transformation into a haven of liberty and fairness.

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 dream that my four young children will grow up in a country where they will not be evaluated based on their skin color, but rather on the inner qualities of their character.

I have a dream today!
I hold this dream dear to me, even 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 dream of a future day, right in the heart of Alabama, a state marked by virulent racists, a state where the governor's words are filled with 'interposition' and 'nullification'—I dream that in Alabama, young black boys and black girls will be able to hold hands with young white boys and white girls, united as siblings.

I have a dream today!
I hold this dream dear to me, even 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
I envision a future when every valley will be lifted up, and every hill and mountain will be brought down, when rough terrain will become smooth, and twisted paths will be made straight; a time when the magnificent glory of the Lord will be unveiled, and all people will witness it in unison.

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
This is the foundation of our optimism, and this is the belief that I will carry back to the Southern states.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.
With this unwavering belief, we will be able to carve a symbol of hope out of the immense mountain of desolation.

With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.
With this conviction, we will be able to convert the cacophony of conflict within our nation into a harmonious symphony of unity.

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.
With this belief, we will have the capacity to collaborate, to pray, to strive, to be imprisoned, to rally for freedom together, firmly believing that one day we shall truly be free.

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:
And that day will come—yes, that day will arrive—when every child of God will be able to sing these words with a renewed understanding:

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
My beloved country, you epitomize liberty and freedom, and it is for you that I sing.

Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
The land where my ancestors perished, the homeland of the Pilgrims' honor,

From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
Let freedom resonate from every mountain peak!

And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And for America to truly be a great nation, this vision must become a reality.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Therefore, let freedom resound from the awe-inspiring hilltops of New Hampshire.

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom resound from the majestic mountains of New York.

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom resound from the towering Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania.

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom resound from the snow-covered peaks of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado.

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
Let freedom resound from the graceful curves of California's topography.

But not only that:
But not solely in those places:

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom resound from Stone Mountain in Georgia.

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom resound from Lookout Mountain in Tennessee.

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
Let freedom resound from every hill and every small mound in Mississippi.

From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
From every mountainside, let freedom resound.

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:
And when this occurs, when we unleash the reverberations of freedom, when we let it resound throughout every village and every neighborhood, from every state and every city, we will hasten the arrival of that day when all of God's children—regardless of their race, whether they are Black or white, Jewish or Gentile, Protestant or Catholic—will be able to lock hands and unite their voices, singing the lyrics of the ancient spiritual:

Free at last! free at last!
Free at last! Free at last!

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are finally free!