Once there comes along a man,
Who stands above the rest;
Who realizes a daring plan,
and does what he does...best.
Such a man was Martin King,
Luther, the middle name;
He saw America with a broken wing,
Nothing we knew remained the same.
He said 'judge me by my content
of character, not by the color of my skin; '
He told thousands that gathered, at the
Lincoln Memorial, above the din..
'Among the hills, let Freedom ring, '
He stood tall above the crowd;
He made both black and white hearts sing,
He made us whole and proud.
A bullet struck him down, it mattered not at all,
He was a champion of the oppressed, now past;
His memory and words live on, after the fall,
Now you're free Martin, Good God Almighty, free at last!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem