Gå hit

Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,	 
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep seas 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	 
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.