In plain words
The poet, of the fruit of these verses: How the girls in fine jewels, with lovely faces like the moon, went and bowed to Mādhava [Lakṣmī's lord], Kēśava, who churned the sea where ships sail [the Sea of Milk, for the gods], and there [in Āyppāṭi] received that drum: this Kōtai has told, daughter of Paṭṭarpirāṉ [Periyāzhvār] of lovely Putuvai [Śrīvilliputtūr], whose garland is of cool, fresh lotuses. Those who recite it here in this way, all thirty verses of this Tamil garland to be sung in gatherings, without a slip, will receive grace everywhere from glorious Tirumāl, with his four shoulders like great mountains, his red eyes and his holy face, and will rejoice, girl of ours.