A poem on Immigration

Below is the famous poem by Emma Lazarus, the last lines of which grace the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor. We´re all pretty familiar with the “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...” But I was not familiar with the entire poem which is even more poignant and enlightened.

I´m sharing this obviously because of the extremist anti-immigrant madness going on across the country, spearheaded by Arizona´s new racist legislation.

We have to remember that with the exception of the indigent peoples (nations already here) and the Africans who were kidnapped and enslaved, everyone else from all over the globe came here as an immigrant. Nearly all were seeking work opportunities and a better life. Some were deported from Europe´s prisons.

Why don´t we try to put into practice the sentiments expressed in this poem?

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colossus_of_Rhodes

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-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus, 1883