In a game preserve (I forgot which one) Once upon a time lived Old Billy Goat. Though he lived with wolves, he won’t howl like one, He was bleating songs, all with silly notes. He just nibbled at the grass, always fattening his sides, No one heard a hateful word from this creature. He’s as useful as the milk that a billy goat provides, But at least he did no harm to you, either. Near the lakeshore he lived, on the pasturage, Not trespassing on anyone’s property, But they noticed him, humble and average, As a scapegoat he quickly was voted in. For example, Bear, an old rogue and cheat, Swears at someone, showing his surliness. Next, they look for Goat, bring him in to beat: On-between his horns, with all sturdiness. He would not resist the violence and evil they promote, He would take the beatings cheerfully, with honor. Even Bear himself remarked, "My folks, I’m proud of Billy Goat, A heroic personality, goats trotters!" They protected him like their inheritor, In the woods they have issued an ordinance: That the scapegoat is exempt from all predators, And can leave the preserve to the borderlands. Like a goat the hopped, and he hopped a lot, But he also acted up, rather troublingly: Once he tied his beard in a silly knot And called Wolf a jerk - from the shrubbery. When the time has come for Goat to receive forgiveness for his sins, For the wolves have bitten someone far too deeply, He then growled in bearish fashion, accidentally it seems, But they all forgot about it very quickly. As the predators fought among themselves, A belief grew strong in the wilderness: That their Scapegoat, compared to wolves and bears, Was worth more than someone carnivorous! When the goat heard this, he raised up his hooves: "Hey, you brown and mottled ones of all liveries! I will take away the rations from the wolves, I’ll deprive the bears of their liberties! I will show you the "goat’s trotters", I will make it hot for you, You will learn a thing or two behind the curtain. I will roll you on my horns, I will paint you black and blue, And that goes for every one of you, for certain! Soon you all will come, crawling on your knees. You will die deprived of forgiveness. Who gets absolution now is up to me, For I am the Goat of this wilderness!" There’s a game preserve (I forgot which one) Run by Goat, who lacks his old sheepishness. Yes, he lived with wolves, now he howls like one, Like a bear he snarls in his peevishness.                
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2024