The tap drips,
And keeps me awake.
In the morning,
There will be a lake.
For the want of a washer,
The tiles will spoil.
Then for another,
Dale will toil.
Dale could snuff it,
Will his at work.
Dale fit a washer,
Dont be a jerk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem