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奥巴马的无畏的希望的英文演讲稿
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奥巴马的无畏的希望的英文演讲稿优质解答
on behalf of the great state of illinois,crossroads of a nation,land of lincoln,let me express my deep gratitude for the privilege of addressing this convention.tonight is a particular honor for me BECause,let’s face it,my presence on this stage is pretty unlikely.my father was a foreign student,born and raised in a small village in kenya.he grew up herding goats,went to school in a tin-roof shack.his father,my grandfather,was a cook,a domestic servant.
but my grandfather had larger dreams for his son.through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship to study in a magical place:america,which stood as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before.while studying here,my father met my mother.she was born in a town on the other side of the world,in kansas.her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the depression.the day after pearl harbor he signed up for duty,joined patton’s army and marched across europe.back home,my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line.after the war,they studied on the gi bill,bought a house through fha,and moved west in search of opportunity.and they,too,had big dreams for their daughter,a common dream,born of two continents.my parents shared not only an improbable love; they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation.they would give me an african name,barack,or "blessed," believing that in a tolerant america your name is no barrier to success.they imagined me going to the best schools in the land,even though they weren’t rich,because in a generous america you don’t have to be rich to achieve your potential.they are both passed away now.yet,i know that,on this night,they look down on me with pride.
优质解答
but my grandfather had larger dreams for his son.through hard work and perseverance my father got a scholarship to study in a magical place:america,which stood as a beacon of freedom and opportunity to so many who had come before.while studying here,my father met my mother.she was born in a town on the other side of the world,in kansas.her father worked on oil rigs and farms through most of the depression.the day after pearl harbor he signed up for duty,joined patton’s army and marched across europe.back home,my grandmother raised their baby and went to work on a bomber assembly line.after the war,they studied on the gi bill,bought a house through fha,and moved west in search of opportunity.and they,too,had big dreams for their daughter,a common dream,born of two continents.my parents shared not only an improbable love; they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation.they would give me an african name,barack,or "blessed," believing that in a tolerant america your name is no barrier to success.they imagined me going to the best schools in the land,even though they weren’t rich,because in a generous america you don’t have to be rich to achieve your potential.they are both passed away now.yet,i know that,on this night,they look down on me with pride.
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