A long time ago and far away in the country of Japan, there lived a poor hardworking stonecutter in the mountains. His assignment was to keep the road through the mountains passable. That's why he was busy with his pickaxe day in, day out. The pieces he cut off from the rocks he used again to repair the holes in the road.

It was hard labour; the road through the mountains was long and there were always a lot of travellers: simple farmers taking their cattle to the market, millers with heavily packed donkeys, and distinguished travellers in magnificent vehicles.

Every time such a wealthy nobleman passed by, the stonecutter turned sad and sighed, while he bashed the rocks with mighty blows of his pickaxe.

Once, on a hot day in midsummer, a long procession of handsomely dressed people passed by, with a palanquin [1] in their midst. Next to this coach six servants walked, who had to attend to all the nobleman's wishes.

The stonecutter watched the procession move along, while he wiped off the sweat from his face with an old piece of cloth.

"Oh dear," he complained. "Such a king is being carried, and is given cool drinks, and I have to perform this slave's labour under a burning sun. I wish I were that king! At least, he has power over things."

The travellers slowly disappeared into the distance, and as the stonecutter was about to cut the rocks again, all of a sudden, a deep rumbling sound came from the hills. The man looked around and expected to see some thunderclouds. The sky was clear and dry, though. The man became scared: "Could it have been an earthquake?"

There was no evidence for that, because the ground did not shake, and the mountains just stood there like they had stood for thousands of years, indestructible by whatever force.

Still, to his amazement, the stonecutter heard the rumbling sound come closer and closer. The sound grew stronger and, all of a sudden, there was a voice, "What do I hear? Are you dissatisfied with your existence?"

The stonecutter trembled with fear, because he could not locate the source of the voice. It seemed to come from everywhere around him.

"I'm the mountain spirit," the dark voice said. "I see what you see and I hear what you hear. Are you dissatisfied with your existence?" repeated the voice of the mountain spirit.

The stonecutter stammered some kind of answer. "Uhhh, uhhh, oh well, ... yes actually."

Thundering and even louder than before, the mountain spirit replied, "Then I can help you!"

The sky was clear and there sounded a thunderclap; the stonecutter felt as if a giant hand lifted him from the ground and carried him through the air. It happened so fast that everything around him faded, and he actually didn't dare to look; he tightly squeezed his eyes shut in fear.

All of a sudden, he was thrown down.

The stonecutter braced himself for a fall on the hard and rocky soil, but instead he landed on something soft and even. With his eyes still closed, the stonecutter touched the surroundings with his fingers. At the same time, it felt like he was sitting in a boat or a palanquin. There sounded a voice again, but this time much softer and lovelier than that of the mountain spirit.

"Did you sleep well, master?"

Slowly but softly he opened his eyes. He looked around; it was a palanquin!

The voice came from a girl sitting opposite to him; she was a geisha.

Her soft hand swept his sweaty forehead with a silk cloth. Now the stonecutter realized what had happened. After all, he had grumbled when the distinguished procession passed and he had said, "Let me be the king." Then the mountain spirit came and he said, "I can help you!" So now he was the king for real.

It was no dream, but he wondered if he really had the power of a king now.

"I am thirsty, give me something to drink," he said.

Almost immediately, a servant bowed through the curtain of the palanquin and poured out a cold drink in a beautifully decorated cup. Another servant waved a palm leaf to keep him cool. From that moment on, the stonecutter, who became king, exercised his power well. He only had to snap his fingers to put things in motion. The king enjoyed it. He was the most powerful man on earth. Nobody and nothing could achieve more than he. That's to say .... He noticed that sometimes things happened against his will. If it was very hot, the land dried out, the people did not go to work, and it looked like time stood still. The sun was to blame for that!

As he travelled in his palanquin on a hot day along the shriveled-up acres, he cursed the power of the sun. "Oh dear," he complained, "this sun keeps on shining and shining, and even a king remains powerless. I'm the boss, so let me be the sun!"

He closed his eyes to take a nap, when suddenly there was this rumbling sound in the hills again. He bent over to look outside where the thunderstorm would come from, but the sky appeared to be clear and dry all over.

He became afraid. "Could it be an earthquake?"

However, the bearers and the servants trudged on calmly, there was nothing out of the ordinary to see, the ground did not shake, and the mountains stood there like they had stood for thousands of years, indestructible by whatever force. Suddenly, the king who used to be stonecutter realized that this all had happened once before.

"What do I hear? Are you dissatisfied with your existence? I am the mountain spirit," said the dark voice. "I see what you see and I hear what you hear. Are you dissatisfied with your existence?" the voice of the mountain spirit repeated.

The king was actually quite happy; only the sun was mightier than he was. He stammered something like, "Uhhh, uhhh, well ... no, not really."

The mountain spirit did not seem to hear him, though, and he roared, "Then I can help you!"

The sky was clear and a thunderclap sounded. Again, the king who once was a stonecutter had the feeling of being lifted and carried through the air by a gigantic hand. It went so fast that everything started to fade. Once more, he closed his eyes, because he was too frightened to look.

All of a sudden, he experienced complete peace and quiet around him. The sweet scent of wealth and power was gone. He opened his eyes and what he saw was totally new to him; he seemed to have entered a whole new world. There was nothing around him, only in the distance something round was hanging in the air. He didn't understand it at all and wanted to scratch himself behind the ears, but his hands were gone. Surely, he wasn't a king anymore. He gazed at the sphere in front of him and noticed that he could distinguish more and more details. He saw that the sphere was nothing else than the world and he could even see the people. They held hands before their eyes and looked up at him in agony. They were farmers standing near their burned acres. Were they looking at him?

The stonecutter, who once was granted to be king, had become the sun now!

He had complained and said, "Let me be the sun!"

The spirit of the mountain had heard him and said, "I can help you!"

The sun ruled over the entire world; he was able to grow food, but to burn it as well. The sun, who once was king, who once was a stonecutter, could be content. He sent his rays of sunshine where he liked and enjoyed the power he could exercise. That's to say .... He noticed that not everything went the way he wanted under certain circumstances. For a few summers now, his work was spoiled by sudden showers of rain arid cold gusts of wind. The wind was to blame! So the sun complained and grumbled, "What's my power worth, if others can make fun of me? Let me be wind and storm!"

While the sun intended to send some scorching rays to the desert, suddenly! a huge thundering came from the earth. The thunder changed into a loud voice that roared, "What do I hear? Are you dissatisfied with your existence? I am the mountain spirit," the dark voice continued. "I still can see what you see, and 1 still hear what you hear. Are you discontent with your life?" the voice of the mountain spirit repeated.

The sun had experienced this before and understood that this was his chance to become even more powerful. On former occasions he had been frightened, but not this time. The mountain spirit roared, "Then I can help you!"

The sun, who once was king, who once was a stonecutter, was prepared for anything, but nothing happened .... Or did it?

The world was turning very fast. It took a while before he realized that it was not the world that was moving fast, but he himself was racing over the face of the earth. He was the wind, he was the storm! Now he would let the world know he was there; at the most unexpected moments he could blow everything upside down. He could be a warm little breeze in spring, but he could be a storm in fall as well, tearing trees from the earth.

The wind, who once was the sun, who once was king, who once was a stonecutter, battered and roared, blew and whistled, and was content. Nothing could stop him, nothing could harm him. Season after season he just did his job.

Still, he was unable to be completely satisfied. There were things that seemed to laugh at his raging power. There were mountains, for instance, that stood on this world like they had stood for thousands of years, indestructible by whatever force. Even as a hurricane, the wind was powerless. So he complained and grumbled and now he called the mountain spirit himself, "What's keeping you? I thought you would come and help me!"

The wind, who once was the sun, who once was king, who once was a stonecutter, waited for the rumbling sound coming towards him to help him.

Something was rumbling all right, not outside, but inside him the thunder could be heard. There was no voice this time; that wasn't necessary. He himself became the being in the rocks, the ghost of the stones all over the world, of the mountains and the hills; he had become the spirit of the mountain!

No need to think any more – unchanging, motionless, permanent – stone remained stone ....

No need to think any more – unchanging, motionless, permanent-stone remained stone ....

No need to think any more-unchanging, motionless, permanent-stone remained stone ....

A long time ago and far away in the country of Japan, there lived a poor hardworking stonecutter in the mountains. His assignment was to keep the road through the mountams passable. That's why he was busy with his pickaxe day in, day out. He cut off pieces from the rocks ....