நெறிதரு குழலை அறலென்பர்கள் நிழலெழு மதியம் நுதலென்பர்கள்நிலவினும் வெளிது நகையென்பர்கள் நிறம்வரு கலசம் முலையென்பர்கள்அறிகுவ தரிதிவ் விடையென்பர்கள் அடியிணை கமல மலரென்பர்கள்அவயவம் இனைய மடமங்கையர் அழகியர் அமையும் அவரென்செயமறிமழு வுடைய கரனென்கிலர் மறலியை முனியும் அரனென்கிலர்மதிபொதி சடில தரனென்கிலர் மலைமகள் மருவு புயனென்கிலர்செறிபொழில் நிலவு திலையென்கிலர் திருநடம் நவிலும் இறையென்கிலர்சிவகதி அருளும் அரசென்கிலர் சிலர்நர குறுவர் அறிவின்றியே.
In plain words
They call the wavy tresses dark river sand. They call the brow the moon rising in its glow. They call the smile whiter than moonlight. They call the breasts gleaming pots. They say this waist is hard to perceive. They call the pair of feet lotus flowers. Young women with limbs like these may well be beautiful, granted. Yet what can they do? They do not say, “He whose hand holds the deer and the axe.” They do not say, “Hara who raged at Death.” They do not say, “He who bears matted hair that holds the moon.” They do not say, “He whose shoulder the mountain's daughter embraces.” They do not say, “Tillai where the dense groves stand.” They do not say, “The Lord who performs the sacred dance.” They do not say, “The King who grants the state of Śiva.” Some, without knowledge, will come to hell.
Line by line
The wavy tresses they call dark sand; the moon rising in its glow, the brow, they call; whiter than moonlight, the smile, they call; coloured pots, the breasts, they call; hard to perceive, this waist, they call; the pair of feet lotus flowers, they call; young women whose limbs are such are beautiful, granted; what can they do? He who has the deer and axe in hand, they do not say; Hara who raged at Death, they do not say; bearer of matted hair enclosing the moon, they do not say; he of the shoulder the mountain daughter embraces, they do not say; Tillai where dense groves abide, they do not say; the Lord who performs the sacred dance, they do not say; the King who grants the Śiva-state, they do not say; some will reach hell, without knowledge.