Praise for the Academy of Fine Arts

This is a collective filled with love, a home that teaches us to bless art - an art school. A group of young, energetic, diligent and motivated students study eagerly here; they use colors and lines instead of language to learn the art of depicting the world; they play with their hearts, sing with their hearts, and praise with their hearts; they create beautiful, fresh, and Lively, profound, and colorful literary and artistic works glorify the name of God; they use diligence and hard work to demonstrate their talents and versatility.

Let us learn to interpret the world with beautiful lines and colors, and let art fill every corner of life.

I sat next to the lover of my soul and listened to her words. I was silent and listened quietly. I felt a power in her voice that shook my soul. The electric shock separated me from myself, so my heart flew to the endless space and swam there. It sees the world as a dream and the body as a cramped prison cell.

A strange magic power is embedded in the voice of my lover, and it controls my emotions at will. Because of the magic power that made me content with being speechless, I actually ignored her words.

People, she is music! I hear her - when my lover sighs after certain love words, or smiles during certain love words; I hear her - when she sometimes uses broken words, Sometimes it is spoken in smooth and coherent language, and sometimes it is spoken in language half left on the lips.

With my hearing eyes, I saw the impact of my lover’s heart. She made me engrossed in the treasures of emotion that she expressed through music - the voice of the soul - instead of savoring the preciousness of her language.

Yes, music is the language of the soul, and melody is the breeze that stirs the chords of emotion. She knocked on the door again with her delicate hands. She awakens her memory, which traces and reappears all the past events that have affected her.

Music is a gentle melody that calls. If she is sad, she brings back memories of painful and sad times; if she is cheerful, she brings back memories of happy and joyful times. She placed everything she recalled on the pages of her imagination.

Music is a collection of sad sounds. When you hear her, she makes you stop, fills your heart with pain and anxiety, and paints your misfortune like a ghost.

She is another compilation of cheerful melodies. Once you feel her, she will capture your whole body

① This article is Gibran's earliest officially published work, and was published in the American Arab Diaspora Journal in 2001.

. body and mind, so she dances happily between your breasts.

She is the sound of the strings, floating into your ears with the waves of ether. She may turn into a drop of hot tears, flowing from your eyes. These tears are caused by the pain of the lover's absence or the pain of the wound bitten by the teeth of time. She may turn into a smile and burst from your lips. That smile is actually a sign of happiness and peace.

She is the body of the dying person: it has a soul, which comes from wishes; it has reason, which comes from the heart.

Man appeared, and music inspired him as a language from above. Unlike other languages, it talks about the hidden meaning of the soul, between one heart and another heart, because it is the whisper of the soul. She is like love, its influence spreads all over people. Then the barbaric songs in the desert began to sing, and the kings in the palace trembled from front to back and left and right. When a bereaved mother intertwines her with her own lamentations, she breaks the heart of the hard-hearted; when a rejoicing person spreads her joy with him, then she is inspired and struck down by disaster. A song of praise. She is also like the sun, lighting up all the flowers in the field with its sunshine.

Music is like a beacon, driving away the darkness in the heart, illuminating the heart, making everything hidden in the heart appear. Music seems to me to be a shadow of my true self, or an illusion of living feeling. The mind is like a mirror, standing in front of various events and actors in the world, reflecting the images of emotions and illusions.

The soul is a tender flower before the wind of judgment. The morning breeze blows it and the morning dew bends its slender stem. It is also the cry of a bird, which wakes people up from their sleepiness. So people listen, feel, and sing with it the wisdom - the creator of the sweet cries of birds and their own subtle emotions. That cry stimulated his thinking power, so he asked himself and around him, what kind of secret did the song of this insignificant bird tell, which could actually pluck the strings of his emotions and reveal to him the writings of his predecessors? What is the meaning contained in the work? He probed and asked: Is the bird calling to the flowers in the field, or imitating the soft skills in the tree canopy? Are you imitating the flowing spring, or are you talking about friendship with the whole nature? But he failed to find an answer.

People can’t understand what the little bird on the branch is saying, nor can they understand the sound of spring water flowing gently on the pebbles and the sound of waves slowly pushing towards the shore. He didn't understand the story told by the raindrops falling on the leaves, or the story told by its gentle fingertips tapping on the glass window. He also didn't understand what emotions the breeze was telling about the flowers in the fields. But he felt that his heart knew and understood the meaning of all these sounds, and therefore it trembled with joy now and now with sorrow and trouble. Some voices called him in a faint language, and wisdom placed them in front of his natural nature, so his heart communicated frequently with nature, while he himself remained silent, hesitant and confused, and stood aside benevolently. Perhaps tears replaced his words, because tears are the best transmitter of words.

Time is with me. Oh, O sane ones! Come on to the stage of memory and see clearly what role music plays in those peoples that time has obscured. Come on! Let us consider what influence music left on the Sons of Adam at various stages of their development.

The Dildes and the Egyptians worship music as a great god, kneel to it and praise it. Persians and Indians believed that music was the soul of God on earth. A Persian once said: "Music was originally a fairy of the gods in the sky. She fell in love with human beings and came down from the sky to the earth to find her beloved. When the gods learned about it, they became furious and sent a strong wind to tighten the air. Then the fairy dispersed the violent wind in the air, and the wind spread to all corners of the world. The fairy herself was not dead, absolutely not! She lived in the ears of humans."

An Indian philosopher also said: "Sweet melody consolidates my hope for a beautiful eternal existence."

Music was a god to the Greeks and Romans. They built lofty temples to him, and still tell us of their magnificent altars, and offer the finest sacrifices and the most fragrant incense. This god they called Apollo. They pictured him in all his perfection, making him stand tall as a river lifts a tree to its surface. Apollo played the piano with his left hand and plucked the strings with his right hand, looking majestic and majestic. His eyes were staring into the distance, as if he saw the profound foundation of all things.

People say that the sound of Apollo's strings is the echo of nature, which he translated from the cries of birds, the gurgling of running water, the blowing of the breeze and the swaying of the branches. sound.