This World Poem by Abdul Wahab

This world is neither a stage
Nor are its inhabitants players
Nor is it a hill that echoes
What its citizens do or did
This world is a wired instrument
Sit upon it tight
And play your fingers to get sweet tune.

Sometimes in another way
In another aspect it appears
Just to me and I think it is not wrong
This world is a peculiar inflated balloon
Hang on it or hold it fast
And keep your going floating.