Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
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 passes 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.




(turn the page)

(turn the page)





-T.S. Eliot-
The Waste Land

Sources:

First publication date 1922.
Public domain text taken from The Poets’ Corner:
http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/eliot01.html

CST Approved.