When I bent and reached there down,
The tire made a hissing sound;
I made a puncture with each blow,
Released the air and let it flow;
Now look who got that simple gift,
Some flat tires, did so swift;
See the car I'm standing near?
Has whistling tires that I hear!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Slashing thy tire, slashing thy tire, that is the penalty, of the ungodly liar.
POP, Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssh...........