Death By Water

Phlebas the Phoencian, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swells
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,
Remeber Phlebas, who was once as handsome and tall as you.