In plain words
The poet, of the servants of Araṅgaṉ: He lies in the sea [the Milky Ocean] that tosses its waves in rapture at his touch; his great holy chest, like a mountain, wears a garland of fragrant tulasi that the bees probe; his eyes are lotus flowers. His servants fall into love-madness for him, rise up, dance, sing and wander about, crazed with love for Araṅgaṉ, my Lord, alone; and my heart is lost in love for that wealth of service which is theirs.