New Colossus Translated

 

Learn more about this project in essays written by Alicia Ostriker and Mihaela Moscaliuc.

The New Colossus
By: Emma Lazarus

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!”

Zêdan Xelef
Sholeh Wolpé and Mohsen Emadi
Piotr Florczyk
Ellen Doré Watson
,
Jorge Emil
Carmen Firan
Irina Mashinski, with thanks to Boris Dralyuk
Anne Shivas
Snežana Žabić
Batsirai Easther Chigama
,
Tinashe Muchuri (editing)
Marisa Frasca
Nina Varon
Lorraine Healy

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