Few cross over the river.
Most are stranded on this side.
On the riverbank they run up and down.
But the wise person, following the way,
Crosses over, beyond the reach of death.
Free from desire,
Free from possessions,
Free from attachment and appetite,
Following the seven lights of awakening,
And rejoicing greatly in his freedom,
In this world the wise person
Becomes themselves a light,
Pure, shining, free.