In plain words
The poet, of the servants of Araṅgaṉ: The King who broke the humps of the bulls [the seven] with their deceitful, angry bellowing and drove off the warring serpent [Kāḷiyaṉ] is Araṅgaṉ of lovely Araṅgam, ringed by great, strong walls of dressed stone, blazing with radiance: a single dark cloud whose form bears a bow. There are those in whose hearts he dwells and shines, so that their bodies thrill; thinking of them alone, my heart thrills as they do.