Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. - Emma Lazarus

Then Nature shaped a poet's heart — a lyre
From out whose chords the lightest breeze that blows
Drew trembling music.

Berikan kepadaku mereka yang lelah dan papa
Yang terbelenggu dan mendambakan kebebasan
Yang terbanting ke pantaimu, berimpitan lemas
Beri aku para gelandangan, dan yang terhempas
Akan kunyalakan pelitaku di sisi gerbang emas

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.