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Quote by D. M. Stephenson

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D. M. Stephenson

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“It thus became almost impossible to have one's music heard without first being profitable, in other words, without writing commercial works known to the bourgeoisie. To be successful, a musician first had to attract an audience as an interpreter: representation takes precedence over composition and conditions it. The only authorized composers were successful interpreters of the works of others.”

MusicPolitical Science
Book:Noise: The Political Economy of Music
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“WHERE ARE WE NOW? Where are we now, O people of light? We who once led the world to what is right. We taught the world the power of prayer, Now we are lost, confused, and scared. Once our minds reached stars so high, Now we just watch and wonder why. Once our hearts were strong with faith, Now they are weak, full of hate. We were the people of knowledge and art, Of pure belief and fearless heart. But now we sleep while others rise, We close our books, we shut our eyes. Our mosques are full, but hearts are cold, Our stories of glory are old and told. We talk of Islam, but live in show, Tell me, my brother ,where did we go? Where is the courage of Salah’s hand? Where is the wisdom that built this land? Where are the poets who spoke of flame, Where are the souls that feared no blame? We blame the world, we blame the West, But we forgot we failed our test. We lost our vision, our faith, our art, We let the fire fade from heart. Rise again, O Muslim soul! Find your strength, regain your role! Hold the Qur’an and knowledge near, And walk with faith, without fear. The world still waits for us to be, The voice of peace, of unity. The torch of truth in the darkest night, The builders of love, the bringers of light. The world still waits for us to show, That Islam means to learn, to grow. To build the earth with wisdom’s hand, To heal the hearts, to guide the land. The world still waits for us to rise, To open hearts and open eyes. To break the chains of hate and greed, And plant again the Prophet’s seed. O people of faith, wake up, stand tall, You were made to lift, not fall. Return to Allah, return to His way, And lead the lost world once again someday.”

Life LessonsIslamic Poetry
Author:Janid Kashmiri
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“Just when she was almost falling into unconsciousness, she heard beautiful music, climbing up and down an unknown scale. On the roof above her, Peter was playing a pipe of some sort, the sound bright and confident, a lilting melody drifting down and putting to ease all her fears. The music carried down from her hut, echoing throughout Centermost, and she imagined it flowing like liquid out through its branches, drifting down to the ears of the Lost Boys, who smiled at its reassuring sound as it fell around them like rain…. she had never heard a melody that was quite so beautiful and dangerous at once.”

Music
Book:STARS
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