Pride (In the Name of Love)是獻給民權鬥士馬丁‧路德‧金(Martin Luther King, Jr.)的。
Pride (In the Name of Love)收錄在1984年的專輯The Unforgettable Fire。滾石雜誌列Pride (In the Name of Love)為「史上五百大最佳歌曲」第378名。
馬丁‧路德‧金(Martin Luther King, Jr.,1929年1月15日-1968年4月4日),是著名的美國民權運動領袖,1964年度諾貝爾和平獎獲得。1929年1月15日馬丁‧路德‧金出生於喬治亞州的亞特蘭大(Atlanta, Georgia),他的父親是一個教會牧師。1948年馬丁‧路德‧金獲得莫爾豪斯學院(Morehouse College)文學士學位,1951年他又獲得柯羅澤神學院(Crozer Theological Seminary)神學士學位,1955年他從波士頓大學(Boston University )獲得神學哲學博士學位。
1954年馬丁‧路德‧金成為阿拉巴馬州蒙哥馬利(Montgomery, Alabama)的德克斯特大街浸信會教堂(Dexter Avenue Baptist Church)的一位牧師。1955年12月1日,一位名叫做羅沙‧帕克斯(Rosa Parks)的黑人婦女在公共汽車上拒絕給白人讓座位,因而被當地警員逮捕。馬丁‧路德‧金立即組織了一場罷車運動(即蒙哥馬利罷車運動),從此他成為民權運動的領袖人物。1963年馬丁‧路德‧金組織了爭取黑人工作機會和自由權的華盛頓遊行。1964年,馬丁‧路德‧金被授予諾貝爾和平獎。1968年4月4日,他在田納西州孟菲斯(Memphis, Tennessee)旅館的陽台被一名種族主義分子刺客開槍正中喉嚨致死。
1986年1月,總統雷根簽署法令,規定每年一月份的第三個星期一為美國的馬丁‧路德‧金紀念日以紀念這位偉人,並且訂為法定假日。迄今為止美國只有三個以個人紀念日為法定假日的例子,分別為林肯紀念日,華盛頓紀念日與及馬丁‧路德‧金紀念日。其中,而馬丁‧路德‧金是唯一一位非美國總統而又享有此殊榮的人。他最有影響力且最為人知的一場演講是「我有一個夢」(I Have a Dream),迫使美國國會在1964年通過《民權法案》宣佈種族隔離和歧視政策為非法政策。
「我有一個夢」(I Have a Dream)(17:28):
歌詞中有一段:「Early morning, April 4, shot rings out in the Memphis sky.」,原本說的就是馬丁‧路德‧金被刺的那天,可是卻有誤,因為馬丁‧路德‧金被刺是傍晚時分,並非早上。Bono後來在一些演唱會上會把歌詞改唱成「Early evening......」
Pride (In the Name of Love)也收錄在U218 Singles和The Best of 1980-1990:
Pride (In the Name of Love)的歌詞:
One man come in the name of love
One man come and go
One man come, he to justify
One man to overthrow
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
One man caught on a barbed wire fence
One man he resist
One man washed on an empty beach.
One man betrayed with a kiss
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
Early morning, April 4
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love
In the name of love
What more in the name of love...
I Have a Dream英文全文:
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 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 a sign 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!
「我有一個夢」中譯:
今天,我何其有幸能跟著大家,加入這個示威活動的行列。這個必將成為我國歷史上爭取自由的最偉大示威活動。
一百年以前,一位了不起的美國人,此刻我們正好站在他紀念像的蔽蔭之下,正式簽署了解放宣言,這份重大的文獻,直如一座偉大的燈塔,照亮了當時猶煎熬於不義之火的數百萬黑奴的希望;也向歡愉的破曉曙光,終結了漫漫的桎梏長夜。
然而,整整一百年後的今天,我們卻不得不面對這個可悲的事實:黑人依然得不到自由;整整一百年後的今天,黑人仍在生活中帶著種族隔離的手銬和種族歧視的腳鐐悲慘的蹣跚而行;整整一百年後的今天,黑人仍得在物質富裕的汪洋大海之中,兀自生存於貧乏的孤島之上;整整一百年後的今天,黑人依然掙扎於美國社會的陰暗死角,突然發現立身於自己的國土之上,卻像一名被放逐的罪人。所以說,今天我們來到此地,正為著揭露這些駭人的真實景況。
某種意義來說,我們今天來到我們國家的首府,是要求兌現一張支票,在我們共和國的締建先賢寫下美國憲法以及獨立宣言的莊嚴字句同時,他們等於是簽下了一紙期票,每一個美國人都對這紙期票有繼承權。該期票許諾,保證每一個人皆擁有不可剝奪的生存權利,自由權利,以及追求幸福的權利。
很顯然的,對於有色公民,美國並未兌現這張期票,美國沒有履行這項神聖的義務,只給了黑人同胞一張空頭支票,一張註記著「現金不足」的空頭支票,然而,我們沒辦法相信正義的銀行已然破產,我們沒辦法相信這個國家堆著各式各樣機會的大倉廩之中,居然會發生現金不足的窘狀,因此我們到此地來要求支票兌現-這張能滿足我們自由財富與正義保障的支票。
此外,我們之所以來到這個神聖之地,也是為了要提醒美國,事情已屆燃煤之際了,再沒時間讓我們侈言大家冷靜冷靜,或拿漸進改革當麻醉劑了。現在,是對民主做出真正承諾的時候了;現在,是從陰暗荒蕪的種族隔離幽谷走出來,步上種族平等陽光大道的時刻了;現在,是把我們這個國家從種族不平等的流沙之中拔昇起來,奠基於民胞物與的堅石磐石的時刻了;現在,更是讓所有上帝的兒女同享真正公義的時刻了。這個國家若輕估了事情的迫切程度,後果將不堪設想,黑人正當性不滿的炙人炎夏將一直徘徊不去,直到自由平等的涼颼秋日真正到來為止。
一九六三年不會是個句點,而是一個開始,如果這個國家依然故我不思變革的話,那些希冀黑人的怒火消退、回歸平和的人們,也會跟著暴烈的覺醒起來。
黑人一天不能得到他的公民權利,美國便休想有一天的安憩,一天的安寧,這個抗爭的旋風將持續的搖撼我們這個國家的基石,直到正義的光明日子降臨。
但在這裡,我有幾句話非叮囑此刻已站在正義殿堂前溫暖門檻的同胞不可,在爭取我們正當地位的過程之中,我們切不可因錯誤的行動而犯罪。
我們不可汲飲仇恨的苦杯,來紓解我們對自由的乾渴;我們必須自始至終立身於尊嚴和自律的高原之上,來進行我們的爭戰,絕不可以讓我們如此富創造力的抗爭行動,淪為肢體暴力的行徑;我們還得一次又一次讓自己莊嚴的拔昇起來,用我們靈魂的力量來對抗對手的有形暴力。
這個業已席捲了整個黑人社群的不可思議爭戰,千萬不要把我們引領到不信任白人的歧路上去,因為,許許多多我們的白人弟兄,就像他們今天出席這個聚會已足堪證明,他們已然認識到,他們的命運和我們的命運緊密相繫,他們已然認識到,他們的自由和我們的自由不可分割,我們攜手前進,向著不公義悍然攻擊的壯麗大軍,必須聯合黑白兩個種族才成其可能,我們不能踽踽獨行。
而一旦我們開拔前進,就得以破釜沉舟的決心挺進到底,不再回頭張望。有人會如此質問獻身民權運動的朋友們,「你們要怎樣才肯滿意歇手?」我們永不歇手,除非黑人不再是警察野蠻荒謬暴力的受害者。
我們永不歇手,除非我們的身軀,歷經跋涉的疲憊身軀,可以在公路上的旅店和城市裡的旅館得著棲身之所;我們永不歇手,除非黑人的基本生活空間能從窄小的貧民窟成為寬闊的住宅區。
我們永不歇手,除非我們的孩子不會再看見「白人專用」的告示牌,從而剝奪了他們的人格,戕害了他們的自尊;我們永不歇手,除非密西西比州的黑人可以投票,而且紐約的黑人不再認為自己投不投票一樣無濟於事。不,我們是不會歇手的,也永遠不可能歇手,除非正義似水,四處泛溢。公里如河,奔流不息。
我不會不清楚,你們之中有人歷經重重艱難才能感到此地,有人則乍乍從窄小的囚籠裡放出來,更有人來的地方是,你要求自由就讓你飽受種族壓迫暴雨的捶打和警察暴力狂風的侵襲。你們早已是這種創造性受難的沙場老將了,請懷著如此不合理的受苦是贖身代價的信念,繼續奮鬥下去。
回密西西比去吧,回阿拉巴馬去吧,回南卡羅萊納,回喬治亞,回路易斯安納,回到北方城市的貧民窟和窮苦黑人的寄居之地去吧,我們知道這些慘狀可以而且一定會改變的,我們別再躑躅於絕望的幽谷中不去。
所以我要告訴你們,我的朋友,儘管此刻和未來仍有多少困厄得去面對,我依然有個夢,這個夢深深扎根於美國的偉大夢想之中,相信我們這個國家必將卓然而起,實現他建國理念的真諦-我們認為這個真理是不證自明的,即所有人生而平等。
我有一個夢,有這麼一天,在喬治亞州的紅土小丘之上,農奴的孩子與農莊主人的孩子可以同席而坐,平等如友。
我有一個夢,有這麼一天,就算是密西西比這樣一個州,這樣一個被不公義的熱流籠罩不去的州,也能蛻變而成衣方自由正義的綠洲。
我有一個夢,有這麼一天,在阿拉巴馬這個地方,有著邪惡的種族主義者、有著一個永遠不中止出言干涉並違反聯邦政令的州長,會有這麼一天,就在阿拉巴馬這個地方,黑皮膚的小男孩小女孩,能和白皮膚的小男孩小女孩攜手嬉戲,如同兄弟姐妹,今天我有這樣一個夢。
我有一個夢,有這麼一天,所有的深谷會被填起,所有的山丘都會被夷平,粗礪之地會成為坦坦的平原,折曲之地被成為如矢的直道,上帝的榮光會再次顯現,四海之人會成為一家。
這是我們的願景,這也是我將攜回南方的信念。
憑此信念,我們會把絕望的大山,鑿成希望的磐石;憑此信念,我們會把我們國家種族傾軋的喧嚷,譜成一曲愛和平的動人樂章。
憑此信念,我們會一起工作,一起禱告,一起奮戰,一起昂然入獄,一起為著自由持續抗爭,因為我們曉得我們終將得著自由,終將這麼一天普天所有神的子女會以全新的意義如此高聲頌唱──「我的家邦啊,甜美的自由之鄉,讓我為你頌唱,這是我父親安眠之地,這是朝聖者榮光之地,讓自由的鐘敲響,響過每一座高山。」 ──如果美國會是如此一個偉大的國家,這一切必然成真。
所以,讓自由的鐘聲響起,從新罕普夏的巨大頂峰。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從紐約的雄偉山脈。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從賓夕法尼亞的高聳阿利根尼山。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從科羅拉多皚皚白雪的洛磯山。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從加利福尼亞的折曲優美山徑。
不只如此。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從喬治亞的巖山。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從田納西的遠眺山峰。
讓自由的鐘聲響起,從密西西比的每一處小丘低陵,從每一處山側嶺旁,讓自由的鐘聲響起。
當我們把自由的鐘聲如此敲響,我們會讓它響遍每一個村落,每一處農莊,響徹每一州,每一座城市,我們會加速這一個日子的降臨,只要所有上帝的子女──白人與黑人,猶太人與非猶太人,基督教徒與天主教徒──攜手相繫,同聲高唱那首古老的黑人聖歌:
「終於自由了,終於自由了,感謝全能的上帝,我們終於自由了。」
延伸閱讀:
The Sky of Gene - U2
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