Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dread,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
Oh! You who turn the wheel and look to windward,
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and
Tall as you.
