Introduction: A few years later, in Rome. Fallen out of grace with the emperor, abandoned by his own, and gnawed by the ghosts of the past, Pontius Pilate appears in turn. The all-powerful governor has become the accused, facing the shadows of his choices. Lyrics (Verse 1) The tribunal sits in silence beneath the stone vaults, The Senate observes the man with a gaze of dust. He is the same governor who once made tremble The rebellious provinces and the gathered crowds. But his shoulders bowed under the weight of the toga No longer find an echo in false praises of flattery. He is accused of excess, of blood shed without measure, But deep within his heart, it is another wound. (Chorus) Judged by men, betrayed by the gods, Pilate contemplates the void, closing his eyes. What is truth? he once asked... Here he is, a prisoner of his own detour. The pendulum of time has finally bent, And yesterday's judge is judged in his turn. (Verse 2) "What have you done with your power?" thunders the praetor's voice. He remembers the tumult and that false censor. He sees the crowd screaming "Release Barabbas to us!" And that royal silence that did not plead. He wanted to please Caesar, to appease the storm, Today it is his own head that they prepare. No basin of pure water, no river in Italy, Will be able to redeem this cowardly, buried compliance. (Chorus) Jugé par les hommes... (Judged by men, betrayed by the gods...) (Verse 3) The sentence is passed, exile will be his tomb, Down there toward the mists where the sun sinks. Far from the gold of Rome and the banks of the Tiber, A broken man walks, both dead and free. He carries with him the cry of that day, And the shadow of the innocent man he abandoned. The centuries will pass over his scorned name, কিন্তু the tribunal of shadows has already condemned him. (Outro) (The percussion slowly fades away, leaving only a deep brass drone) The water has evaporated.... The basin is dry... And the truth remains, implacable and silent... silent...
