Thursday, August 03, 2017

Mother of Exiles

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Emma Lazarus
The New Colossus

Trump Aide Dismisses Statue of Liberty 'Huddled Masses' Poem

It greeted millions of immigrants from Europe, including my mother and her parents.  Through all our hypocrisy, it has stood as our ideal, as the very meaning of America to billions of people around the world.  And is the latest to be defiled by this shameful regime in the White House.

No comments: