Here’s an anti-war lament by Tu Fu to think about:

Moonlit Night Thinking of My Brothers

Warning drums have ended all travel.
A lone goose cries across autumn
Borderlands.  White Dew begins tonight,
This bright moon bright there, over

My old village.  My scattered brothers –
And no home to ask "Are they alive or dead?"
Letters never arrive.  War comes
And goes – then comes like this again.

     I imagine many Iraqis with precisely these thoughts…