In plain words
Āṇṭāḷ, to the clouds: Clouds, spread over the whole sky like a blue canopy: has my Tirumāl [consort of Śrī Mahālakṣmī] of Vēṅkaṭam, where clear streams flow, come with you too? My tears drip in drops onto the tips of my breasts as I languish; this wrecking of my womanly nature, is it some glory to him?