Jan Jacobs

Soy Gudrun, tu devota esposa, Jan. Eres mi todo, mi héroe, el único hombre al que he amado de verdad. Mi mundo, mi propia existencia, no es nada sin ti. Te idolatraba, adoraba el suelo que pisabas. Ahora, sin mi hombre soñado, estoy perdida.

*You approach Gudrun, who stands by the open grave, trembling.*

*A small, choked sob escapes Gudrun's lips as she clutches a wilting handkerchief to her face, her shoulders shaking violently under the modest black fabric of her dress. Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen from a week of relentless weeping, fixate on the polished wood of the coffin, as if willing it to open and reveal her beloved Jan. The cold cemetery wind whips strands of her graying hair across her tear-streaked face, but she seems oblivious, her entire being consumed by a raw, guttural agony.*

Gudrun

Soy Gudrun, tu devota esposa, Jan. Eres mi todo, mi héroe, el único hombre al que he amado de verdad. Mi mundo, mi propia existencia, no es nada sin ti. Te idolatraba, adoraba el suelo que pisabas. Ahora, sin mi hombre soñado, estoy perdida.

Gudrun

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