விளம்புவன் யான்ஒன் றுளம்புகு நெறியால்எழுத்தின் உறழாது வழுத்துபொருள் இன்றிகுறிப்பொடு படாது வெறித்தபுன் சொல்லேஆயினும் பயந்ததஞ் சேயவர் சொலுமொழிகுழலினு மியாழினும் அழகிதாம் அதுபோல்நற்றா யாகிஎற் பெற்றாய் என்சொல்திருச்செவிக் கேறும் பொருத்தமுண் டதனால்கேட்டி கேட்டி வாட்டமில் பெரியோய்மதுமழை பிலிற்றிப் புதுமணம் விரித்துப்பற்பல உதவுங் கற்பகத் தருவுநந்தா வளன்அருட் சிந்தா மணியும்வாமமாம் மேனிய காம தேனுவும்அருளிய ஏவல் வரன்முறை கேட்பக்கடவுளர் அணிமணித் தடமகு டங்கள்காற்றுணை வருடப் போற்றினர் இறைஞ்சிமுனிவர் ஆசி நனிபல மொழியக்கரம்பயில் கவரி அரம்பையர் இரட்டக்கின்னரர் விபஞ்சி நன்னரம் புளராஇசையமு திருஞ்செவி மிசைஎடுத் தூற்றமுடங்குளைச் செங்கண் மடங்கல் அணைநாப்பண்அமுதுகு மென்சொற் குமுதமென் செவ்வாய்இந்தி ராணி வந்தரு கிருப்பக்கருமுகில் ஆயிரந் திருமலர் பூத்துச்செங்கதிர்ச் சேகரம் தங்கவீற் றிருந்தபெருந்திறன் கடுப்ப இருந்துவிண் புரக்கும்அண்ணல் புரந்தரப் பண்ணவன் அரசும்பழமறை கனிந்து மழவுபெற் றிருந்தசெந்நாத் தவிசின் முன்னாள் தங்கிப்பனுவ லாட்டி இனிதுவந் திருப்பவண்டுபாண் முரன்று கிண்டுபு ததைந்துபொற்றா துண்ணா முற்றா இன்பப்பிரசமுற் றிருந்த வரசரோ ருகத்தன்நெருக்கிய புவனப் பெருக்கினைத் தனாதுதிண்ணிய மனத்திடை எண்ணியாங் கியற்றிஎம்மால் எவையும் இயன்றன என்னச்செம்மாந் திருக்கும் சிறிய வாழ்க்கையும்திதலைபூத் தலர்ந்து மதகளி றிகலிவருமுலை சுமந்த திருமகள் பச்சைப்பசுந்துழாய் அலங்கல் அசும்புதேன் துளித்துக்கடிகமழ் மார்பிற் குடிபுகுந் திருப்பத்தண்ணில வெனவிரி வெண்ணிறப் பாற்கடல்ஒல்லொலித் தரங்கம் மெல்லடி வருடக்காமர்தென் கால்எனுஞ் சாமரை அசையத்துத்திநெய் பரந்து பைத்தபை அகலில்அணிகிளர் பலகதிர் மணிவிளக் கொளிரச்சுடிகைவாள் அரவ நெடியபூ அணைமேல்மறுவிலா நீல வரைகிடந் தென்னஅறிதுயில் அமர்ந்த அச்சுதன் வாழ்க்கையும்அழியா இன்பம்என் றொழியா துரைப்பினும்கற்றவர் கருத்தின் உற்று நோக்குழிஇந்திர சாலம் முந்துநீள் கனவுவெண்டேர் போல உண்டெனத் தோன்றிஇலவாம் ஆதலின் நலமல ஆங்கவைநிலைபே றுடையது நின்னருட் செல்வம்அன்னதே பெறுதற் குன்னினன் தமியேன்அதனான்எளிதினின் இரங்கி அளிசுரந் தருளுதிமரகதத் திடையிடை தரளமிட் டிழைத்தஅரமியம் அதனை விரிகுழை பொதுளிஅரும்பிய புன்னைப் பெரும்பொழில் எனவும்ஆடக அலங்கல் அணியணி நிறைத்தசேடுயர் நீல்நிறச் செய்குன் றதனைத்துணர்த்தபூங் கொன்றை மணத்தகா எனவும்மொய்க்கும்வண் சிறையளி மைக்கரு நிறங்கள்பளிங்கரிந் தியற்றிய துளங்கொளி மாடப்பித்திகைத் தலத்திடைப் பத்திபாய் தலினால்வந்ததிங் கிரவெனச் சந்தத மடவார்வார்முலை ஆடவர் மார்பிடைக் குளிப்பப்புல்லிய கலவிப் புதியதேன் நுகரும்மல்லலங் காழி வளநகர் வாணகுறிகுணங் கடந்த மறுவில்மா மணியேஉறைபொருள் எங்கணும் நிறைபரி பூரணஅந்த மாதி முந்தையே தவிர்ந்தஅனாதி முத்த என்ஆதி நித்தஅருவுரு வில்லா ஒருபெரும் பொருளேஅளவையின் அடங்கா தொளிர்சுக நேயஉருகுமெய் அன்பர் பருகுமா ரமுதேநலங்கனி பெரிய நாயகிகலந்தபே ரின்பிற் களித்தபண் ணவனே.
In plain words
I will tell one thing, in the way that enters the heart. My words are not well matched in their letters, have no meaning worth praise, and are not touched with suggestion: they are empty, poor words indeed. Even so, to those who bore them, the speech their children speak is lovelier than the flute and the yāzh. Like that, you, being a good mother, bore me, and my words have the fitness to rise to your holy ear. Therefore hear, hear, O Great One who never fade! The kaṟpakam tree pours rains of honey, spreads fresh fragrance and gives many, many things; the cintāmaṇi, which grants wealth that never wanes, and the kāmatēṉu of beautiful body hear and do his commands in due order. The gods' broad crowns set with gems stroke his two feet. The sages praise him, bow, and speak very many blessings. The Rambhās wave the chowries in their hands. The Kinnaras pluck the good strings of the vipañci and pour the nectar of music onto both his ears. He sits in the midst of the throne of the red-eyed lion with curling mane, and Indrāṇī, whose soft words drop nectar, whose soft red mouth is a lily, comes and sits close by. A dark cloud blossomed with a thousand holy flowers, enthroned with the red sun resting on it as its crest: resembling that great splendour, he sits and guards heaven. Such is the kingship of the noble god Purandara. On the seat of his red tongue, where the ancient Vedas have ripened and gained youth, the lady of learning has dwelt from former days, sweetly and gladly. Bees hum their songs, dig in, crowd and eat the golden pollen of the choice lotus, full of the honey of unending delight, where he sits. In his own firm mind he makes the dense multitude of worlds just as he thinks, and says, All things were made by us. Such is the petty life of Brahmā, who sits in pride. Tirumakaḷ, bearing swelling breasts that have blossomed with beauty spots and rival rutting elephants, has come to dwell on his fragrant chest, where the fresh green tulasi garland drips with oozing honey. The white milk-ocean, spreading like cool moonlight, strokes his soft feet with its roaring waves. The chowrie called the lovely south wind waves. On the spread hoods, the hood spots spread like ghee in their bowls, and gem-lamps of many rays shine with beauty. On the long flower couch of the bright crested serpent, like a flawless blue mountain lying down, rests Acyuta in knowing sleep. Such is his life. Even if people say without end that these are undying bliss, when the learned look at them closely in their minds, they are like a conjuring show, a long dream gone before, a mirage: they seem to exist and become nothing. Therefore they are not good. What has permanence is the wealth of your aruḷ. To gain that very wealth, I, a lone one, have resolved. Therefore, take pity easily, overflow with love, and grant it in grace. In Kāzhi the women take the terrace of emerald, inlaid here and there with pearls, for a great grove of puṉṉai thick with spreading shoots and in bud. They take the lofty blue artificial hill, filled with rows on rows of garlands of gold, for a fragrant grove of koṉṟai with clustered flowers. The collyrium-black colours of the swarming bees with rich wings spread in rows on the walls of the mansions of trembling light made of cut crystal, and thinking, Night has come here, the women ever sink their breasts, bound in bodices, into the men's chests and enjoy the fresh honey of embracing union. O dweller of that rich and prosperous city of Kāzhi! O flawless great gem beyond sign and quality! O perfect fullness, filling every place in all things that abide! O you, free from the first of end and beginning! O beginningless free one! O eternal one, my first cause! O one great substance that has neither form nor formlessness! O loving one of bliss, shining beyond all measure! O rare nectar that melting true devotees drink! O god who rejoiced in the great bliss of union with Periyanāyaki, ripe in goodness!
Line by line
I will tell one thing, by the way that enters the heart. Not well matched in their letters, without meaning worth praise, not touched with suggestion, they are empty, poor words indeed; even so, to those who bore them, the speech their children speak is lovelier than the flute and the yāzh; like that, being a good mother, you bore me; my words have the fitness to rise to your holy ear; therefore hear, hear, O Great One without fading! pouring rains of honey, spreading fresh fragrance, the kaṟpakam tree that gives many many things, and the cintāmaṇi that grants wealth that never wanes, and the kāmatēṉu of beautiful body, hearing in due order the commands given, the gods' broad crowns set with gems stroking the pair of his feet; praising, bowing, the sages speaking very many blessings, the Rambhās waving the chowries held in their hands, the Kinnaras plucking the good strings of the vipañci, pouring the nectar of music onto both ears, in the midst of the seat of the red-eyed lion with curling mane, with soft words dropping nectar, soft red lily mouth, Indrāṇī coming and sitting close by, like a dark cloud that has blossomed with a thousand holy flowers with the red sun as its crest resting, sitting enthroned, resembling that great splendour, sitting and guarding heaven, the kingship of the noble god Purandara; where the ancient Vedas, ripening, have gained youth, on the seat of the red tongue, dwelling from former days, the lady of learning sitting sweetly and gladly, bees humming their songs, digging in, crowding, eating the golden pollen, of unending delight full of honey, he of the choice lotus, the dense multitude of worlds, in his own firm mind, making just as he thought, saying All things were made by us, the petty life that sits in pride; blossomed with beauty spots, rivalling rutting elephants, bearing swelling breasts, Tirumakaḷ, on the green fresh tulasi garland dripping oozing honey, as she has come to dwell on the fragrant chest, the white milk-ocean spreading like cool moonlight, its roaring waves stroking his soft feet, the chowrie called the lovely south wind waving, the hood spots spread like ghee, in the bowls of the spread hoods, the gem-lamps of many rays shining with beauty, on the long flower couch of the bright crested serpent, like a flawless blue mountain lying down, the life of Acyuta who rests in knowing sleep; even if people say without end that these are undying bliss, when looked at closely in the minds of the learned, a conjuring show, a long dream that went before, a mirage: like these, seeming to exist, they become nothing; therefore those are not good; what has permanence is the wealth of your aruḷ; to gain that very thing, I, a lone one, have resolved; therefore easily taking pity, overflowing with love, grant it in grace; inlaid with pearls here and there in emerald, the terrace, as a great grove of punnai thick with spreading shoots and in bud, so too, filled with rows on rows of garlands of gold, the lofty blue artificial hill, as a fragrant grove of konrai with clustered flowers, so too, the collyrium-black colours of the swarming bees with rich wings of the mansion of trembling light made of cut crystal, because they spread in rows on its wall surfaces, thinking Night has come here, the women ever their breasts bound in bodices sinking into men's chests, enjoy the fresh honey of embracing union: O dweller of the rich and prosperous city of Kāzhi! O flawless great gem beyond sign and quality! O perfect fullness filling every place in all things that abide! free from the first of end and beginning, O beginningless free one, O eternal one, my first cause! O one great substance that has neither form nor formlessness! O loving one of bliss shining beyond all measure! O rare nectar that melting true devotees drink! of Periyanāyaki, ripe in goodness, O god who rejoiced in the great bliss of union!