In plain words
Be he one who has gathered up all the śāstras and Purāṇas, a Brahmin who teaches the Vedas, with passion running high, in lovely mansions be he a moon among kings who takes his pleasure, on the field of battle, with his foes routed, be he a hero without equal in the world, who shines, languishing at the mercy of the goddess of poverty, be he a servant, lord of misfortune: without Bhakti he is of no use at all. Rather than a lord of the world who is without Bhakti, the servant given to Bhakti is the one worthy of reverence.
Churn and churn, and fire is born in the wood; churn and churn, and ghee is born in the curd; churn and churn, and the principle is born in the body: these are words that tell things as they are.
From beginningless time, among the countless kinds of living beings, the birth of man is exalted, gracious and noble in character. Even after gaining so sacred a human birth, a person who cannot recognise his divinity: such a one can only be called unmanifest. Many kinds of hardship and loss, sorrow and worry, and unrest too, keep pursuing devotees. Only when many cuts are made in a precious diamond does its value grow beyond measure. In just the same way, if you are to realise the divinity within humanness, you have to go through hardships of many kinds. But you must not forget Bhakti.