IV. DEATH BY WATER

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.

I live
I am living now
I am living here, then there

I choose
I am choosing now
I am choosing this, then that

I ride currents
I am rolled, tossed
I glide gently with a breeze

I will die, but first
I will live full and whole as
I learn the good, true, and beautiful