There is an old goat
Knocking at my window-pane,
Standing upright in a frock-coat,
Somewhat earthcoloured and plain.
He is staring down at me
And the place where i have chosen to hide
In my futile attempt to dissolve...
I discovered this cell as a child.
There is a medicine-case, he calls Being,
Which the goat carries under his arm.
He says, if i only allow him to enter
I shall never come to any harm.
He is giving quite an importance
To his frightening and urgent concern,
He says: I have come to be your transformer...
I'm your doctor, half goat and half man.
He says that this house will soon crumble
And that i am going to suffer as it falls.
He says: Let me in now and i'll be your saviour...
I'm your healer with hooves and horns!
