In plain words
Āṇṭāḷ, to her mothers: Who in this world can console me? The dark bull [Kaṇṇaṉ], who plunders all of Āyarpāṭi and enjoys it, has trampled me, and I lie crushed, faltering and broken. Bring at least the water that has welled in the nectar mouth of the one who is like a nectar that never sates, make me drink it so that I do not wither, and take my weariness away.