In plain words
Āṇṭāḷ, to the clouds: Cool clouds, risen and shining with your load of water, you who spread and climb high and pour your rain on Vēṅkaṭam, where dwells the one who took the earth from Mahābali: tell Nārāyaṇa, who entered me so that I withered within like a wood-apple eaten by great mosquitoes, and took all that was good in me, of this wretched sickness of mine.