when my heart was dishwater
rolling rock dust and powder
and all of my angels had gone back to heaven
feeding from pub nuts out of my pocket
when all was past and passed sweet caring
chutney and chips sweet delicacies
and all her hymns chimney ashes
fag packs beer caps bedded my morning
rain drips my bath water fell from the awnings
shoe bruised worn socks backwards walking
brittle and rattle through battle and warring
came a sweet love calling for me
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I would like to translate this poem