In plain words
The poet, longing for Śrīraṅgam: The tall bow Śārṅga ever fitted with its arrows, the good curved conch [Pāñcajanya], the slaying discus [Sudarśana], the dread mace [Kaumodakī], the bright sword of victory [Nandaka], and the fierce, victorious bird called Garuḍa, swift as the wind: all these stand round about and guard him as he lies on the serpent bed in Tiruvaraṅgam, ringed by groves and wide fields full of carp. When will the day come, I wonder, when I, of grievous sins, see Māl, the supreme one, attain the bliss of union with him, and truly live?