名人诗歌|It Happens Like This

I was outside St. Cecelia's Rectory

smoking a cigarette when a goat appeared beside me.

It was mostly black and white， with a little reddish

brown here and there. When I started to walk away，

it followed. I was amused and delighted， but wondered

what the laws were on this kind of thing. There's

a leash^{1 law for dogs， but what about goats？ People}

smiled at me and admired the goat. It's not my goat，

I explained. It's the town's goat. I'm just taking

my turn caring for it. I didn't know we had a goat，

one of them said. I wonder when my turn is. Soon，

I said. Be patient. Your time is coming. The goat

stayed by my side. It sTOPped when I sTOPped. It looked

up at me and I stared into its eyes. I felt he knew

everything essential about me. We walked on. A police-

man on his beat looked us over. That's a mighty³

fine goat you got there， he said， sTOPping to admire.

It's the town's goat， I said. His family goes back

three-hundred years with us， I said， from the beginning.

The officer leaned forward to touch him， then sTOPped

and looked up at me. Mind if I pat^{2 him？ he asked.}

Touching^{4 this goat will change your life， I said.}

It's your decision. He thought real hard for a minute，

and then stood up and said， What's his name？ He's

called the Prince of Peace， I said. God！ This town

is like a fairy tale. Everywhere you turn there's mystery

and wonder. And I'm just a child playing cops^{5 and robbers6}

forever. Please forgive me if I cry. We forgive you，

Officer， I said. And we understand why you， more than

anybody， should never touch the Prince. The goat and

I walked on. It was getting dark and we were beginning

to wonder where we would spend the night.