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martes, 2 de abril de 2013

The Waste Land. IV Dealth by water

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 passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
 Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,  320
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

Background music: Sometime by Frithjof Brauer from Jamendo

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