few cross over the river, most are stranded on the side   on the banks of the river, they run up and down      but the wise man, following the way, crosses over beyond the reach of death   free from desire, free from possession, free from attachments and appetite      i can't cross it      following the seven lights of awakening and rejoicing greatly in one's freedom      in this world, the wise man becomes himself a light, that's pure, shining and free