In plain words
The poet, longing for Śrīraṅgam: When will the day come, I wonder, when I join the throng of his servants, whose heart's love is never sated, and sing his many holy praises; when with a joy of heart that is never filled, my tears pouring like rain, I think of him, melt and praise him; and when, seeing the Lord of the battle-ready discus, who lies on the serpent bed in Tiruvaraṅgam, where every day the rich sound of the drums recalls the sea, I leap and dance and roll upon the ground?