The Tang dynasty poet Cao Song wrote these lines after witnessing the devastation of war:
"The rivers and mountains of this marshland have become a battlefield.
How can the common folk find joy in gathering firewood?
I beg you, speak no more of marquises and their glory —
One general's triumph is built on ten thousand bleaching bones."
Four lines. Twenty-eight characters. And in them, the entire horror of war distilled to its essence: the general rides home in glory; the soldiers rot in the field. The victory is celebrated in the capital; the cost is buried in the mud.
泽国江山入战图，生民何计乐樵苏。凭君莫话封侯事，一将功成万骨枯。
泽国江山入战图，生民何计乐樵苏。凭君莫话封侯事，一将功成万骨枯。
Reflection & Analysis · 寓意解读
Core Wisdom
Behind every monument to a hero lies a field of forgotten names. The glory of one is purchased with the silence of many.
Cao Song's poem is one of the most famous anti-war verses in Chinese literature. The final line — "一将功成万骨枯" (one general's success, ten thousand bones dried) — became a proverb that is quoted whenever the human cost of ambition is discussed.
The poem does not condemn the general specifically — it condemns the system that makes generals glorious. The common people, who "gather firewood," have no stake in the victory. They are the fuel. The poet's plea — "speak no more of marquises and their glory" — is a request to stop celebrating the very thing that destroys them.