把这一句，留给此刻的你

‘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-tossed, to me; I lift my lamp beside the golden door.’

“保留古老的土地，你那传奇的盛况!”她用沉默的嘴唇喊道。“给我你那疲倦的、可怜的、挤成一团渴望自由呼吸的群众，给我你那熙熙攘攘的岸边可怜的垃圾。把这些，无家可归的人，被暴风雨袭击的人，寄给我;我在金色的门边举起我的灯。”

— Emma Lazarus 埃玛·拉扎勒斯