Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
recall!

I too, have buried the dead
and seen the faces aptly avoided
by the living.

I have touched the pallid hand
weathered in a desert land
with and without misgivings.

And I have even heard
Alfred's sirens singing.

Venir l'amour, venir.

The drowned Phoenician Sailor said,
'Dare not ignore the honored dead!
The Cheshire grin upon my face
is a permanent mark of my disgrace.'

'Beware the siren's call! '

Alluring, beseeching.
A deceitful thing it was,
painted in white lies,
and much too lovely
to linger in.

Tant vous êtes jaloux de garder vos secrets!