In plain words
The poet, singing Rāma of Kaṇṇapuram to sleep: O you who created Brahmā upon the lotus [of your navel]! O eldest son of Daśaratha! O bridegroom of Maithilī! My dark gem of Kaṇṇapuram, where swarms of bees hum the kāmaram melodies! O master of the bow [Śārṅga] that urges its holder to shoot! Rāghava, tālēlō.