He ran as if everything behind him were in flames. Propelled by a leap, he was driven forward. During the day, he stormed down the meadows. Stumbling over stones and hills. It was pitch black before his eyes, as if it were a dark night.

Through the outskirts, across long fields, along busy roads, until he ran up the first mountain ridges. The hills gave him hope, and with renewed strength, he continued his journey. The hills grew into a vast mountain landscape. He climbed up and down like a tiny dot until he reached the heights where the paved roads ended. Finally, none of those pitiful humans were in sight anymore. He was alone with his beloved nature.

He greedily breathed in the fresh wind, threw himself into the blueberries, and tasted them with delight. The prickling pine needles lifted him up again, and so he kept running. The landscape became increasingly barren and rocky. The trees soon stopped growing altogether, and the blueberries gradually disappeared behind him. The wind grew harsher, and the chirping of birds was no longer audible.

At this altitude, just before the summit, he spotted an old man. An elderly man, wrapped in a wool coat. He wore a felt hat on his head and a pair of thick leather shoes on his feet. The young man saw the long, white beard swaying in the wind and knew inwardly that he was close to his goal. He approached the man closely and asked hastily, "I was told I would find paradise in these heights. You seem knowledgeable. Can you tell me where it is? Where is it hidden?" The old man smiled, looked deep into the young man's eyes, extended his index finger, then his entire arm, almost randomly turned his arm in one direction and said only, "There!"

The young man began to shout for joy, jumped up, embraced the man in an overwhelming manner, started whistling, and danced lightly and nimbly down the rocks. The old man had pointed to an opposite peak. So, the young man had to descend the valley again and climb up the other side of the mountain.

Filled with desire and hope, he ran down the mountain. As he reached the wide meadows, he increased his pace and inevitably started to run faster and faster. His strides grew longer, and each time his feet touched the ground, his whole body trembled. He somersaulted, and his tumbles extended over several meters. The cows looked startled and puzzled; they had never seen anything like it before.

After rolling around, the young man shook off the grass, wiped off the dirt a bit, and resolutely began once again, joyfully stumbling down the meadow in a running pace. In the forest, he slowed down a bit, but his rapid pace through the narrow path winding through the pines seemed suicidal. He enjoyed this game – dodging stones, roots, and trunks. He felt the wind in his hair, and when he thought about soon reaching the summit, where he could finally see his long-awaited paradise, his whole being was filled with bliss.

Upon reaching the valley bottom, he walked through a small mountain village. It consisted of two farms and a manor house. A farmer sat on a wooden bench in front of a large gray barn, gently stroking a cat and enjoying the afternoon sun. The young man greeted him joyfully, and as he bowed, he did so with such force that he nearly stumbled again. The farmer burst out laughing and playfully returned the greeting.

Between the farms, a hiking trail led up the mountain to its peak. Taking large steps, he ventured into the forest between the houses. The cool shade pleased the young man, and he picked up speed again. Soon, the trees stopped growing again, and silence set in. Only the wind audibly swept over the rocks. He knew he was near the summit, and he could hear his heart pounding loudly in his temples. On all fours, he now climbed the last steep stretch of the mountain. And truly, there was another old man sitting there. A similar wool coat, a hat, and worn leather shoes on his feet. The young man's eyes gleamed with joy; this man could now share his paradise with him.

When the man saw him approaching, he looked at the sweaty young man calmly. The young man spoke, his voice gasping, his breath catching: "Mountain, mountain salvation. H-here... So here. Hmh... Here it is then... paradise. Is it true... So please tell me, where is it, kind sir?" Wordlessly, the man extended his arm, turned it to the left, then back again, and further to the right. The outstretched arm remained still in the air.

The young man's face relaxed. His joy slipped away from him. He was puzzled: "I don't understand. I was just sent here. The paradise was supposed to be here. I was thrilled. I threw myself down a slope and got up. And now, yes, now they're sending me away again. Far off to another mountain. I don't understand. Can't you see how exhausted I am? Don't you know the blisters I have on my feet?" The man left his arm unmoved and remained silent. The young man continued angrily, "These false prophets preach joyfully ahead, and a poor heart listens to it, is captivated by it, and believes in it. Damn it. Offspring of Satan! Deceivers and heartbreakers!"

Consumed by anger, the young man turned away from the man, looked in the direction he was shown, and spoke defiantly, "Then let me participate in this tragedy. I'm supposed to be the actor who follows the director's words. Send me around the stage called Earth. Go ahead! I'm already lost. I have no more life. So I want to theatrically lay down my life out of exhaustion. I've already been enjoying poetry for a while."

Unsteadily, he descended once again. Thoughtful steps, controlled and devout. He slipped a bit on the scree until he had large stones under his feet again. When the meadows stretched out, he stretched out in the grass just as long. He took a long, slender blade of grass in his mouth and chewed on it. His gaze wandered over the distant blue peaks, and he watched the jackdaws above him, but it didn't excite him. He had no interest; he was in his head, cursing to himself.

Enveloped in hatred, he stood up and defiedly walked downhill. He began to feel his weakened muscles, but he paid it no mind. He continued steadily and had only one goal in sight: the summit on the opposite side of the valley. He walked unsteadily down the lonely meadows. The wind blew across the ground, causing the occasional tuft of grass to flutter. He stepped over them and made his way through the flat underbrush. Once again, the first firs greeted him, and he welcomed their protective shade warmly. This time, he didn't rush through the tree trunks in a whirlwind, he took his time and carefully followed the worn path. This path led him along a roaring stream deeper and deeper into the coming valley.

When he pushed through the thickets and finally reached the clearing of the valley, he was not very pleased with what his far-reaching gaze revealed. He knew another ascent was ahead. Yet without complaint or sorrow, like a steamboat sailing up the Danube, he resisted the exertions moderately and walked resolutely towards the summit. He didn't care anymore about the roots or the stones; he looked at them rather cynically, using them as footholds, and was already yearning for the open, bare meadowland in the high mountains.

As he heard the terrified, shrill whistles of the marmots, he felt lighter. He knew he had almost reached the treeline, and the summit wasn't far anymore. And so it was. Already on the barren field, he could make out the boulders of the summit. Despite his physical condition, his body began to speed up. His steps grew larger and faster. The last bits of strength gathered in his body, compressed by the belief that he could finally bring his life to perfection. It was like a frenzy that carried his exhausted, half-blind body further into the heights.

The summit of the mountain was now close. A stony, steep ridge was the last thing that separated him from his happiness. Slightly swaying and dazed from exhaustion, he stumbled along the path. On both sides, there was a drop of several hundred meters into rugged depths, but the young man no longer noticed. He obeyed his subconscious, which placed one foot in front of the other for him. Then, almost in a trance, he saw the silhouette of a man. His heart started racing, his pulse quickening. He pushed stones down because he couldn't lift his feet anymore. They rolled down, carrying more with them in their force. The echo of these avalanches echoed through the valley and the mountains. The young man paid no attention and lifted his bones onwards.

Now, in full exhaustion and plagued by lack of sleep, a being stood once again in front of an old man wrapped in wool. The young man could hardly speak, threw himself down at the man's feet, and wheezed. He remained like this for a while until, without looking up, he asked in a small voice, "Am I here?" The old man looked calmly and said, "Where would you like to be?" The young man waited for some time and then said, "In paradise. Have I arrived?" "Should I show you? Should I show you where it is?" "Yes! For heaven's sake, why do you ask? Why do you think I've come to you? Why do you think I'm so exhausted? Do you not take me seriously? Do I not look like I'm serious? You don't believe I'm serious?" The older man remained silent. Unable to bear the restlessness, the young man continued, "I left everything I thought was mine behind. I ran away without saying goodbye. I followed a prophecy that told me that paradise lay in these mountain heights. I haven't slept, eaten, or rested. I met people who I thought had reached my destination, but they kept sending me away. I got upset. Inside there was a great commotion; I would have almost beaten myself to death. But hope drove me on. My faith was strong, and it brought me here... It couldn't have been all for nothing, right?" "Nothing you do is in vain. Even though you didn't need to expend yourself so much. You asked the old gentlemen about paradise, and they showed it to you. You followed their guidance, but you overlooked paradise in your eagerness. Even now, lying before me, you don't need to ask me. It's right in front of you, can't you see it? No matter where I point, I'm always pointing to paradise. No matter where you are, you are always in paradise. It's impossible to escape paradise. It's sad that people never look; if they would just sit down and look, they would see everything they're searching for. But humanity rushes through paradise so quickly that they can't look left or right, or stop to smell a beautiful rose bush. They always keep running until their short lives are over."