In plain words
The poet, of the fruit of this decad: Unable to bear it when the dark Neṭumāl, full of beauty, became Rāma and entered the forest, Daśaratha, whose broad, mountain-like shoulders bore the garland of victory, lamented. Kulacēkaraṉ of the royal parasol, master of the sharp spear, king of the people of Kōzhi [Uṟaiyūr], put that lament into words as this Tamil garland full of excellence. Those who can recite these will not go on the evil path.