Sedutan "The English Patient"

Inilah novel yang masih belum saya habiskan (contoh lain, sebab bahasa yang saya tak mampu kunyah, seperti Ulysseus, atau terlalu membosankan, atau belum ada "stim" untuk meneruskannya), sudah dekat 5 tahun syaa membacanya, tetapi mendaham setiap kata-katra puitisnya membuat saya tersungkur untuk menyelesaikannya dengan cepat. Di bawah ini merupakan antara sedutan yang paling menghayat hati, membuat saya terkaku dan menangis. Saya masih di halaman 290:

"And all the names of the tribes, the nomads of faith who walked in the monotone of the desert and saw brightness and faith and colour. The way a stone or found metal box or bone can become loved and turn eternal in a prayer. Such glory of this country she enters now and becomes part of. We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography - to be marked by nature, not just to label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience. All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps."
The English Patient oleh Micheal Ondaatje, hlm. 261