In plain words
That man was none other than Māṇikkavācakar. All the hymns he wrote are the Tiruvācakam. In every single verse he wrote, all the Vedas and śāstras, the Itihāsas and Purāṇas are held. In the Tamil land many great souls have kept flourishing, from those days right up to now. The temples in this Tamil Nadu, the divinity in Tamil Nadu, are not to be seen in any other land. From the time they rose at dawn, listening to sacred sounds, going to temples, bowing down, asking forgiveness: by such sādhanas all the people of Tamil Nadu went on sanctifying their time in divinity. There was a man called Tirukkuḷai. He worked as a weaver. Each day he wove a single sari, set it out in the bazaar, sold it, and used the money that came from it for his family. Where there is good, there bad too springs up.
Good and bad are both bound up together; no one has the power to pull them apart; happiness by itself we never see anywhere; when hardship bears its fruit, they call that happiness.
These hardships and joys, these sufferings, these delights: all of them go together, each the companion and shadow of the other. Like the object and its reflection, good and bad stay together. In such a state of things, in that same village, a rich man's son used to wander about the bazaar with nothing to do.
When wealth increases, pride increases; when pride increases, bad qualities increase; when wealth goes, pride goes; when pride goes, bad qualities cease.
The rich man's son came up to that man: ‘Sir! How much is this sari?’ he said. The trader told him.