In plain words
Since the word of Īśvara is never turned back, Pārvatī began building the house. But as Īśvara was going to Agni, she said one thing to him: “Swami, it would be a disgrace to me if Agni came and burned down the house I built. So if Agni does not agree, play your ḍamaru at once. When I hear that sound, I will burn this house to ash myself. I will not give Agni this chance.”
Īśvara went to Agni: “Pārvatī is building a house. That house is in danger from you. So give me your word that you will not touch it,” he said. Agni agreed and gave his word: “Swami! For so many days I have longed to see your tāṇḍava dance. Please fulfil my wish,” he prayed. To satisfy him, Śiva danced the tāṇḍava.
He danced the sport of the tāṇḍava, Parameśvara, Śrī Sāmbaśiva, he danced the sport of the tāṇḍava... he danced the sport of the tāṇḍava, he whose bracelet is the king of serpents, taking up the ḍhakka drum in the proper way, to the sound of jaṇāṃ jaṇāṃ jaṇa jaṇatakki, he danced the sport of the tāṇḍava... as Nārada plucked his tambura, with his matted locks gleaming on his head, Hara, whirling his trident, to the sound of tathiṃ tathiṃ tathi tathi takka, he danced the sport of the tāṇḍava... as Sarasvatī played her vīṇā, as Purandara blew the flute, as Hari played the mṛdaṅga, to the sound of dhimīdhimī dhimidhimi takka, he danced the sport of the tāṇḍava... the maiden of the river in his tuft, the third eye in his face, his rosaries of crystal beads, gracefully, gleaming nigānigā niga niganiga, he danced the sport of the tāṇḍava...