In plain words
The poet, of the Lord who now guards him: I slipped and fell into the hollow called the breasts, like little hills, and was to go into a cave there [hell] and lie sunk in it, floundering; but my Lord, coloured like the sea that bears ships, took away what were my heavy sins and made it so that I suffer no disgrace: this town is not what it was before; it is under his guard.