Shatakatraya 3.10

3.10

Hope is a river whose waters are fantasies, churned with waves of craving,
infested with the crocodiles of passion, with doubt as its birds, uprooting the tree of fortitude;
impassable and exceedingly deep with whirlpools of delusion, having towering banks of anxiety:
having reached its opposite shore, masters among yogins rejoice, purely free from toil.