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Crimson flames tied through my ears, throwing high and mighty traps
Countless fire and flaming road, using ideas as my maps.
"We'll meet on edges, soon," said I, proud ‘neath heated brow.
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth, "Rip down all hate," I screamed.
Lies that life is black and white spoke from my skull, I dreamed.
Romantic facts of musketeers, foundation deep, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

Girls' faces formed the forward path from phony jealousy
To memorizing politics of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists, unthought of, though, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

A self-ordained professor's tongue, too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty is just equality in school
"Equality," I spoke the word as if a wedding vow
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand at the mongrel dogs who teach,
Fearing not I'd become my enemy in the instant that I preach.
My pathway led by confusion boats, mutiny from stern to bow.
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

My guard stood hard when abstract threats, too noble to neglect,
Deceived me into thinking I had something to protect.
Good and bad, I define these terms, quite clear, no doubt, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

Bob Dylan

"... Tấm chắn của tôi đã vẫn cứng cáp khi những lời cảnh báo trừu tượng,
Quá cao nhã để bỏ qua,
Lừa tôi nghĩ rằng tôi có điều gì đó để bảo vệ.
Tốt và xấu, tôi định nghĩa những thuật ngữ này,
Khá rõ, không nghi ngờ, cách nào đó.
Chao ôi, nhưng tôi đã quá già hơn khi đó, bây giờ tôi trẻ hơn rồi."
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I was always embarrassed by the words sacred, glorious, and sacrifice and the expression in vain. We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through and had read them, on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it. There were many words that you could not stand to hear and finally only the names of places had dignity. Certain numbers were the same way and certain dates and these with the names of the places were all you could say and have them mean anything. Abstract words such as glory, honor, courage or hallow were obscene beside the concrete names of villages, the numbers of roads, the name of rivers, the numbers of regiments and the dates.
(Ernest Hemingway, In A Farewell to Arms)

"... Có nhiều ngôn từ mà bạn đã ko thể tiếp tục nghe nổi và sau hết chỉ tên gọi của nơi chốn là có phẩm giá. Những con số nhất định đã theo cùng một cách đó cùng với những ngày tháng nhất định, và những thứ này với tên gọi nơi chốn đã là tất cả những thứ bạn có thể nói tới và cho chúng ý nghĩa nào đó. Những ngôn từ trừu tượng như là vinh quang, danh dự, lòng can đảm, hay thiêng liêng đã là thô bỉ bên cạnh tên gọi cụ thể của làng mạc, số ghi đường xá, tên gọi sông ngòi, số ghi của các trung đoàn và ngày tháng."