செருக்குடன் இகலித் தருக்கமே தேற்றிஎம்ம னோரின் இறந்துபிறந் துழலும்மம்மரிற் பெரிய வானவர் குழுவைமெய்ப்பொருள் என்று கைப்பொருள் உதவியும்வழுத்தியும் நெஞ்சத் தழுத்தியும் வறிதேபுறவார் பசும்புற் கறவாக் கற்பசுவாயிடைச் செருகித் தூயநீர் உதவிஅருஞ்சுவைப் பால்கொளப் பெருஞ்சுரை வருடும்பேதையர் போலவும் ஓதுநஞ் சமரும்எட்டியை விரும்பி மட்டுநீர் தேக்கிஈநுழை கல்லா மேல்நிமிர் வேலிஉறும்படி அமைத்து நறுங்கனி கொள்ளக்கருதி முயலுந் திருவிலி போலவும்இலகுவால் அரிசி உலைபெய எண்ணிவெற்றுமி குற்றும் பற்றிலர் போலவும்அருநிலம் உழுததின் எருமிகப் பெய்துவித்திட் டாங்கே விளைபயன் கொள்ளச்சித்தத் துன்னும் மத்தர் போலவும்வாழ்நாள் அனைத்தும் வீழ்நா ளாக்கிஇம்மையும் மறுமையும் செம்மையிற் பொருந்தாதிடருறும் மாந்தர் புடவியிற் பலரால்அன்னவா றெளியனும் உன்னிமதி மயங்காதெய்ப்பினில் உதவு மெய்ப்பொரு ளாகிஎன்றும்ஓர் இயல்பொடு நின்றகா ரணநின்சேவடி த் தாமரைப் பூவினைப் புனைந்துநாத்தழும் பேற ஏத்திஉள் ளுருகிப்பெருகிய அன்பென வருநீர் நிறைந்தஇதய வாவிப் பதுமமா மலரின்குணனெனப் பொருந்தும் மணமாம் நின்னைக்கண்டிறு மாந்து பண்டைவா தனைதீர்ந்தறைகடல் அழுந்தும் நிறைகுட மதுபோன்றசைவற் றிருக்க இசையத் தருதிநிலைமிகப் பொருந்திப் பலமுறை சாரலால்உந்திய வன்ன உருமரு வுதலான்மந்திரத் துறுசுடர் மகத்துயர் தலினால்இதம்பயில் இசைகொள் பதங்கலந் துறலால்வேதமே ஒப்பென ஓதுகோ புரமும்ஒழுக்குநெறி சிறிதும் வழுக்கில அதனால்நூற்பதப் பிரிவினின் மேற்பதம் அதனால்பலகலை ஒளிர்மதி நிலவிய அதனால்முத்தரை வியக்கும் பத்திமை அதனால்சிவாகமம் எனஒளிர் தவாமணி மேடையும்வெள்ளைவா ரணமேற் கொள்ளுமாங் கதனால்கட்டா மரைபல மட்டார் தலினால்அஞ்சுமந் தாரம் விஞ்சிஓங் குதலால்இந்திரன் எனப்பொலி யந்திர வாவியும்எங்கணும் நிறைந்த வெங்குரு நாதாகருவலி தொலைக்கும் பெருமலை மருந்தேகருணைசூற் கொண்ட பெரியவான் முகிலேசிற்றிடைக் கருங்கட் பொற்றொடிக் கரத்தாள்ஆகமார் வனமுலை அணையும்போகமார் இதழிப் பூங்கண் ணியனே.
In plain words
With arrogance, quarrelling, making sure of logic alone, people take the throng of gods, great in delusion, who die and are born and wander like us, as the true substance. They give them wealth in hand, praise them, press them into their hearts, all in vain. They are like fools who stuff green grass from the outer field into the mouth of a stone cow that gives no milk, give it pure water, and stroke its great udder to get milk of rare taste. They are like the luckless one who longs for the strychnine tree, which they say holds poison, pools water around it to its measure, and sets up a tall fence that even a fly cannot learn to enter, striving in the hope of fragrant fruit. They are like the destitute who mean to put shining white rice into the pot and pound empty husk. They are like madmen who plough barren land, put in much manure, sow it, and plan in their minds to take the yield that grows. Making all their days of life wasted days, attaining neither this life nor the next as they should, the people who come to grief on earth are many. So I too, poor as I am, considering this, my mind not confused, wear the lotus of your red feet, O Cause, who have always stood with one nature, the true substance that helps in distress. Praising you until my tongue is calloused, melting within, in the great lotus of the pool of my heart, filled with the water that comes as swelling love, I see you, the fragrance that dwells in it as its very quality. Swelling with joy, my old vātaṉai ended, let me remain without stirring, like a full pot sunk in the roaring sea: grant it, as is fitting. There stands the gopuram, said to be like the Veda itself: firmly set, and resorted to again and again; bearing the figures of swans set forth upon it; its light rising high in its tiers, as the fire of the mantras rises in sacrifice; beauty joined in it with fame, as words are joined with melody. There are the unperishing gem platforms, shining like the Civākamam: their course has not the slightest slip; they hold the highest place among the divisions; the moon with its many digits spreads its light upon them; their rows make the very pearls marvel. There is the tank with its water-machines, shining like Indra: it holds the white vāraṇam; many lotuses full of honey abound in it; bearing water, it rises rich in pearls. O Lord of Veṅkuru, filled everywhere with these! O great mountain-medicine that destroys the strength of birth! O great cloud of the sky, pregnant with compassion! O you who wear the garland of cassia flowers full of delight, who embrace the lovely breasts, filling your chest, of the lady with the small waist, the dark eyes and the golden-bangled hands!
Line by line
With arrogance, quarrelling, making sure of logic alone, who like us die and are born and wander, the throng of gods great in delusion, as the true substance, giving them wealth in hand, praising them, pressing them into the heart, in vain: green grass from the outer field, to a stone cow that gives no milk, stuffing it into its mouth, giving pure water, to get milk of rare taste, stroking the great udder, like the foolish; and the poison-dwelling, they say, strychnine tree, desiring it, pooling water to its measure, a tall upright fence that even a fly cannot learn to enter setting up so that it fits, to get fragrant fruit intending, striving, like the luckless one; thinking to put shining white rice into the pot, pounding empty husk, like the destitute; ploughing barren land, putting in much manure, sowing there, to take the yield that grows planning in their minds, like madmen; making all their days of life wasted days, this life and the next not attaining rightly, the people who come to grief are many on earth; therefore in that manner, I too, a poor one, considering it, my mind not confused, being the true substance that helps in distress, O Cause who have stood always with one nature, your lotus flower of red feet, wearing it, praising until my tongue is calloused, melting within, filled with water that comes as swelling love, in the great lotus flower of the pool of the heart you, the fragrance that dwells in it as its quality, seeing, swelling with joy, the old vāsanā ended, like the full pot sunk in the roaring sea, that I may remain without stirring, grant it fittingly. because it is set very firmly and is resorted to many times, because it bears the figures of swans set forth, because the light in its tiers rises high, as the fire of the mantras rises in sacrifice, because words of pleasant practice that hold melody are joined in it, and the gopuram said to be like the Veda itself; because its course of conduct has not the slightest slip, because it holds the higher part among the divisions of the treatise's pādas, because the moon shining with many digits spreads its light there, because of rows that make the pearls marvel, and the unperishing gem platforms that shine like the Śivāgama; because it holds the white vāraṇam there, because many lotuses full of honey abound, because, bearing water, it rises rich in pearls, as the five heavenly trees rise in excellence, and the tank with its water-machines that shines like Indra; O Lord of Veṅkuru filled everywhere with these, O great mountain-medicine that destroys the strength of birth, O great cloud of the sky pregnant with compassion, of the lady with small waist, dark eyes, golden-bangled hands, who embraces her lovely breasts that fill your chest, O you who wear the flower garland of konrai full of delight!