In plain words
Sir, what you have given is bliss — and even so, it keeps striking me as a wonder, sir! My true Guru Venkateśvara, my Master! You who are to be known by Vedānta! O Form in whom all sound comes to its end! With no part in it, it appears as the partless — Though the senses and the inner faculties see, it is in vain — Inside the sages of the whole sphere too, it appears as itself — With no beginning, no middle, no end, it wears the sky itself — The more I grow used to it, great good fortune comes — The supreme bliss of happiness gives rapture — By a beautiful fire of knowing, every limb is melting — A flood of bliss with neither bank nor shore is rising — What came by that glance brimming with compassion — seeing that sight, merging into it, becoming delight, Like the red light of dawn, the whole sphere of the world is shining — To whom shall I tell his greatness?