Προ του γεγονότος… Προ του γεγονότος… Εν σιωπή… εν σιωπή… In rooms where silence shapes the air, we move as if we already know, but something fractures underneath where no one cares to look below. A line is seen, a shift is felt, a truth too early to be heard, yet motion speaks a heavier voice than any cautious, broken word. Η σιωπή βαθεῖα… Η σιωπή βαθεῖα… And I could see it form before us, the moment bending out of place, but seeing is not the same as stopping a force already set in pace. And we fall before it happens, before the truth becomes the sound, what one mind holds in perfect clarity gets lost when all the world turns round. No warning breaks the common motion, no signal cuts through what we are, just the weight of knowing early how close we came… and how far. It’s never one alone who fails it, not one mistake that breaks the line, but all of us inside the current that refuses to decline. And truth becomes a silent burden for the one who saw it first, while the world keeps moving forward unaware of what it crossed. And the distance grows between us, between the seen and what is done, as understanding comes too early to change the path we’ve already run. And we fall before it happens, as if it was already known, what was crystal in one moment is buried once the motion’s grown. No voice can break the shared direction, no sight can stop what’s already wide, and truth becomes a fading signal inside the current we decide. Η αλήθεια ήλθεν προ καιρού, και ουδείς αυτήν εδέχθη, μία φωνή την είδε φως, αλλ’ η ροή την απέκρυψε. Και η στιγμή η μικρά, η άρρητος, εχάθη εν τω πλήθει, ως άνεμος προ του σεισμού, που ουδείς προλαβαίνει να ιδεί. And we fall before it happens, before the meaning finds its name, and all we saw in pure alignment becomes a whisper without flame. No ending changes what was witnessed, no answer reaches what was true, just the echo of a moment that only one of us once knew. Προ του γεγονότος… Εν σιωπή… Και εν σιωπή… χάνεται το φως…
