ææé²ä¸(Emma Lazarus)çååè¡è¯ãæ°å·¨äººã
ããThe New Colossus Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
ããWith conquering limbs astride from land to landï¼
ããHere at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
ããA mighty woman with a torch whose flame
ããIs imprisoned lightning, and her name
ããMother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
ããGlows world-wide welcomeï¼ her mild eyes command
ããThe air-bridged harbor that twin cities .
ãã"Keep ancient lands your storied pomp!" cries she with silent
ããlips.
ãã"Give me your tired your poor,
ããYour huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
ããThe wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
ããSend these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
ããI lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
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