Mirza Ghalib

(27 December 1797 – 15 February 1869 / Agra / British India)

The World Is A Playground - Poem by Mirza Ghalib

I perceive the world as a playground
Where dawn and dusk appear in eternal rounds
In His Universal form is a plaything the throne of Solomon
The miracles of the Messiah seem so ordinary in my eyes
Without name I cannot comprehend any form
Illusionary but is the identity of all objects
My anguish envelopes the entire desert
Silently flows the river in front of my floods
Ask not what separation has done to me
Just see your poise when I come in front of you
Truly you say that I am egotistical and proud
It is the reflection, O friend, in your limited mirror
To appreciate the style and charm of conversation
Just bring in the goblet and wine
Hatred manifests due to my envious mind
Thus I say, don't take his name in front of me
Faith stops me while temptations attract
Inspite of Kaaba behind and church ahead
I am the Lover, yet notorious is my charm
Thus Laila calls names to Majnu in front of me
'Dies' not one though the union is a delight
In premonition of the separation night
Alas, this be it, the bloody separation wave
I know not what else is in store ahead of me
Though the hands don't move, the eyes are alive
Wine and goblet, let them stay in front of me
Says 'Ghalib'
Conscience is companion and trusted friend
Don't pass any judgments in front of me.

Comments about The World Is A Playground by Mirza Ghalib

  • Nadia Umber Lodhi (10/7/2018 11:28:00 AM)

    بازیچہ اطفال ہے دنیا مرے آگے (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (2/1/2018 7:38:00 PM)

    The World is A Playground a giant poem among poems. Fantastic! (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (11/21/2017 4:46:00 PM)

    Trusted friend! ! The world is a playground. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

  • Susan Williams (11/21/2017 4:15:00 PM)

    The World is merely a Playground to the Egoist. The poet has spoken from the heart of the arrogant and selfish with certainty. I shrink from the reality of this portrait but what a masterly portrait of a heart without tenderness. 10 (Report) Reply

  • Muzahidul Reza (11/21/2017 2:02:00 PM)

    Yes, The World Is A Playground where the players should play well; great write (Report) Reply

  • Rajnish Manga (11/21/2017 12:59:00 PM)

    One of the most popular Ghazals of Mirza Ghalib delineating the world in all its manifestations.
    Fine translation. Thanks.
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/21/2017 10:27:00 AM)

    The original version is as good as heaven and through translation it seems to have lost the lucidity of the beautiful theme but after all it's very profound and philosophical............thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

  • Kumarmani Mahakul (11/21/2017 3:35:00 AM)

    As per the title of the poem it has been appropriately depicted. Beautiful poem. (Report) Reply

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (3/9/2016 11:52:00 AM)

    Bazeecha-e-itfal hai duniya meray aage
    Hota hai shab-o-roz tamasha meray aage

    The world is a children’s playground before me
    Night and Day, this theatre is enacted before me

    Ek khel hai aurang-e-Suleman meray nazdeek
    Ek baat hai aijaz-e-Masiha meray aage

    For me the flying throne of Solomon is a game
    And only talk, the miracles of Christ before me

    Juz naam nahin surat-e-aalam mujhe manzoor
    Juz waham nahin hasti-e-ashia meray aage

    I acknowledge the face of the universe as only a name
    The substance of reality is but superstition before me

    Hota hai nihan gard mein sahra meray hote
    Ghista hai jabeen khaak pe dariya meray aage

    Next to me, the wilderness is shamed into hiding in dust
    The servile river grovels in the dust before me

    Mat pooch ke kya haal hai mera teray peechey
    Tu dekh ke kya rang gait era meray aage

    Do not ask what my condition is without you
    Just look at your own comportment before me

    Sach kahte ho khud bin-o-khud aara hoon, na kyun hoon
    Baitha hai but-e-aaina seema meray aage

    True, I appear consumed by the niceties of adornment, but of course
    An idol mirrors my reflection before me

    Phir dekhiye andaaz-e-gul afshaani-e-guftaar
    Rakh de koi paimana-o-sahba meray aage

    Then witness the blossoming manner of speech
    Just place a decanter of wine before me

    Nafrat ke gumaan guzre hai main rashk se guzra
    Kyunkar kahoon lo naam na unka meray aage

    I was presumed hostile where I am merely jealous
    Why should I say do not take that name before me

    Imaan mujhe roke hai jo kheenche hai mujhe kufr
    Kaaba mere peechhe hai kalisa meray aage

    Faith retards me, where idols lure me
    Kaaba is behind me, the church is before me

    Aashiq hoon pah mashooq farebi hai miraa kaam
    Majnun ko bura kahti hai Laila meray aage

    I desire, my craft is to seduce the desired
    The beloved Laila insults the lover Majnun before me

    Khush hote hai par wasl mein yun mar nahin jaate
    Aai shab-e-hijran ki tamanna meray aage

    Joy prevails, but union need not signal death
    Yearnings of the dark night of my soul came before me

    Hai mauj-zan ik qulzum-e-khoon kaash yahi ho
    Aata hai abhi dekhiye kya kya meray aage

    Tears of blood create oceans of blood, if only this were it
    And yet, what unknown fates must I still behold before me

    Go haath ko jumbish nahin aankhon mein toh dum hai
    Rahne do abhi saaghar-o-meena meray aage

    Even when hands have no movement, sight retains vitality
    So leave the accoutrements of wine before me

    Hum-pesha-o-hum-mashrab-o-humraaz hai mera
    Ghalib ko bura kyun kaho achha meray aage

    He is my comrade, my confidant, my fellow carouser
    Do not speak ill of him, Ghalib is good before me
    (Report) Reply

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (3/3/2016 1:27:00 PM)

    Outstanding poem. (Report) Reply

  • Naida Nepascua Supnet (6/9/2015 10:39:00 PM)

    The world is a playground and we are the players
    Your poem is nice and it reflects truth
    (Report) Reply

  • val Rogers (5/11/2015 4:54:00 AM)

    What makes a great poem? The love of the public. And the spirit Of the poem. BRAVO! Your poem has both.
    Great work Mizra
    (Report) Reply

  • (12/6/2013 2:55:00 PM)

    I am the Lover, yet notorious is my charm (Report) Reply

  • (5/6/2005 10:52:00 AM)

    This isn't a very good translation. Many of the verses have a totally different meaning than what the translator has provided. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: identity, mirror, friend, faith, river, world, night, trust

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

Poem Edited: Friday, March 23, 2012

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