In plain words
The poet, turning from the worldly to the Lord: I do not mingle with this world, which takes this passing life to be lasting. "O my own kin! O Araṅgā!" I call out; I am wholly given over to mad love for my Māl, who loves me.
The poet, turning from the worldly to the Lord: I do not mingle with this world, which takes this passing life to be lasting. "O my own kin! O Araṅgā!" I call out; I am wholly given over to mad love for my Māl, who loves me.