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