We had a slop-bucket by the stove
in our family home.
To where the slops were consigned,
I do not know;
I had years to find out.
Take a note: re slops ask bro.
I know now that slops too
are poor-quality, ready-made clothes.
They are sold with labels on in slop-shops.
From where most of these slops are consigned,
everyone knows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem