The big and the small mountain

The big and the small mountain
Once the big mountain, which had already become snow-white because of its greatness, commanded the small mountain:
„Marvel at my greatness!
The rock dwarf answered bitingly only this: „Why?“
Then the giant stretched himself, and the crown of his head touched the clouds, as if Goliath were standing in a low peasant’s parlor – – and through his threatening voice came the rumbling of the avalanches:
„I am the greater!!!“
But the little mountain was not intimidated: „But I am the stronger!“
How the big mountain laughed!
But the little mountain proudly repeated:
„I am the stronger because I am the more difficult! You are only smiled at by our enemies, the mountaineering circles, as being easy, but I am respected and feared as being very difficult. At most seven people climb me every year! And you – -? Just look in your summit book, there you will find the difference immovable!“
At the confident demeanor of the man who had been looking at him (over his shoulder) until then, the tall man became a bit puzzled and, frowning, leafed through his summit book and – – – oh shock!
Names, names, tens of thousands of names, and what names! Five-year-old children and eighty-year-old teachers!
He was trembling.
Then stones crumbled from the top of his head and became the rockfall of a mountaineer’s death, who, when he wrote his name in a summit book, always thought only this: „Mountains, marvel at my greatness!“
And when the great mountain learned this, he only said: „Woe is me!