In plain words
The poet, singing Rāma of Kaṇṇapuram to sleep: O child, glory of the line of Daśaratha, whose fragrant hair slips its ties! O you who bent a peerless bow and with it destroyed walled Laṅkā! My dark gem of Kaṇṇapuram, where the red water lilies weeded from the fields bloom all around! O you who bear love for your younger brothers! Rāghava, tālēlō.