In plain words
The poet, surrendering to the Lord of Viṟṟuvakkōṭu: A sick man keeps an undying love for the physician even when he cuts him with a knife and burns him. Like him, O Lord of Viṟṟuvakkōṭu, even if through māyā [my bond with this body of matter] you give me sorrow without end, I, your servant, will look only to your grace, to serve you.