அன்றினர் புரங்கள் அழலிடை அவியக்குன்றுவளைத் தெய்த குன்றாக் கொற்றத்துநுண்பொடி அணிந்த எண்தோள் செல்வகயிலைநடந் தனைய உயர்நிலை நோன்தாள்பிறைசெறிந் தன்ன இருகோட் டொருதிமில்பால்நிறச் செங்கண் மால்விடைப் பாகசிமையச் செங்கோட் டிமையச் செல்வன்மணியெனப் பெற்ற அணியியல் அன்னம்வெள்ளைச் சிறுநகைக் கிள்ளைப் பிள்ளைகுயிலெனப் பேசும் மயிலிளம் பேடைகதிரொளி நீலங் கமலத்து மலர்ந்தனமதரரி நெடுங்கண் மானின் கன்றுவருமுலை தாங்குந் திருமார்பு வல்லிவையம் ஏழும் பன்முறை ஈன்றஐய திருவயிற் றம்மைப் பிராட்டிமறப்பருஞ் செய்கை அறப்பெருஞ் செல்விஎமையா ளுடைய உமையாள் நங்கைகடவுட் கற்பின் மடவரல் கொழுநபவள மால்வரைப் பணைக்கைபோந் தனையதழைசெவி எண்தோள் தலைவன் தந்தைபூவலர் குடுமிச் சேவலம் பதாகைமலைதுளை படுத்த கொலைகெழு கூர்வேல்அமரர்த் தாங்குங் குமரன் தாதைபொருதிடம் பொன்னி புண்ணியம் புரக்கும்மருதிடங் கொண்ட மருத வாணநின்னது குற்றம் உளதோ நின்னினைந்தெண்ணருங் கோடி இடர்ப்பகை கடந்துகண்ணுறு சீற்றத்துக் காலனை வதையாஇறப்பையும் பிறப்பையும் இகந்து சிறப்பொடுதேவர் ஆவின் கன்றெனத் திரியாப்பாவிகள் தமதே பாவம் யாதெனின்முறியாப் புழுக்கல் முப்பழங் கலந்தஅறுசுவை யடிசில் அட்டினி திருப்பப்புசியா தொருவன் பசியால் வருந்துதல்அயினியின் குற்றம் அன்று வெயிலின்வைத்தாற்றிய தெண்ணீர் நாற்றமிட் டிருப்பமடாஅ ஒருவன் விடாஅ வேட்கைதெண்ணீர்க் குற்றம் அன்றுகண் ணகன்றுதேந்துளி சிதறிப் பூந்துணர் துறுமிவாலுகங் கிடந்த சோலை கிடப்பவெள்ளிடை வெயிலிற் புள்ளிவெயர் பொடிப்பஅடிபெயர்த் திடுவான் ஒருவன்நெடிது வருந்துதல் நிழல்தீங் கன்றே.
In plain words
So that the cities of the hostile ones were quenched in fire, you bent the mountain and shot. O blessed one of unfailing victory, with eight shoulders, wearing fine ash! O rider of the great bull, milk-white and red-eyed, lofty and strong-legged like Kailai walking, with two horns like crescents set close and a single hump! Himavān, the blessed lord of the Himalaya with its peaks and red summits, had her as his jewel. She is the lovely swan, the young parrot with the small white smile, the young peahen who speaks like the cuckoo. Her long eyes, lustrous and red-lined, are like blue lilies of shining light blossomed in a lotus; she is the fawn of the deer. She is the vine whose holy bosom bears the rising breasts. She is the Mother, the Lady, of the delicate holy womb that bore the seven worlds many times. She is the great lady of aṟam, whose deeds are not to be forgotten. She is the lady Umā, who rules us. O husband of this gentle one of divine chastity! O father of the Leader, whose thick trunk is like an arm come out of a great coral mountain, with spreading ears and eight shoulders! O father of Kumāra! His banner is the cock with the flowering crest, his sharp killing spear pierced the mountain, and he upholds the immortals. O you of Marutu, who took Marutu for your place, where the Poṉṉi dashes against its banks and guards merit! Is there any fault of yours? There are sinners who do not think of you and cross the countless crores of hostile afflictions, do not slay Death with the fury in his eyes, do not pass beyond death and birth and wander in glory like the calves of the cow of the gods. The sin is their own. How so? When food of six tastes, of unbroken boiled rice mixed with the three fruits, has been cooked and lies sweetly ready, if a man does not eat and suffers from hunger, that is not the fault of the food. When clear water, warmed in the sun and cooled, lies ready and scented, if a man does not drink and his thirst does not leave him, that is not the fault of the clear water. When a wide grove lies there, scattering drops of honey, crowded with flower clusters, with white sand lying in it, if a man walks on in the open ground in the sun, with drops of sweat breaking out, and suffers long, that is not the harm of the shade, surely.
Line by line
so that the cities of the hostile ones are quenched in fire, having bent the mountain and shot, of unfailing victory, O blessed one of eight shoulders wearing fine ash, like Kailai walking, of lofty stature, strong-legged, with two horns like crescents set close, one hump, O rider of the great bull, milk-coloured and red-eyed, the blessed one of Himavān of the peaks and red summits got as a jewel, the beautiful swan, the young parrot of the small white smile, the young peahen who speaks like the cuckoo, like shining blue lilies blossomed in a lotus, with lustrous red-lined long eyes, the fawn of the deer, the vine whose holy chest bears the rising breasts, who bore the seven worlds many times, of the delicate holy womb, the Mother, the Lady, the great lady of aṟam of unforgettable deeds, the lady Umā who rules us, O husband of the gentle one of divine chastity, like a thick arm come out of a great coral mountain, with spreading ears, eight-shouldered, the Leader's father, whose banner is the cock with flower-blooming crest, with the killing sharp spear that pierced the mountain, the father of Kumaraṉ who upholds the immortals, dashing against its banks, the Poṉṉi guarding merit, O you of Marutu, who took Marutu as your place, is there a fault of yours? thinking of you countless crores of the enemy affliction crossing, Kālaṉ of the fury in his eyes having slain, death and birth passing beyond, with distinction like calves of the gods' cow, not wandering the sinners: theirs indeed is the sin; if you ask how, unbroken boiled rice mixed with the three fruits, food of six tastes cooked and lying sweetly ready, one not eating and suffering from hunger is not the fault of the food; set in the sun warmed and cooled clear water lying scented, one not drinking, his thirst not leaving, is not the fault of the clear water; wide in extent, scattering honey drops, crowded with flower clusters, the grove where white sand lies, lying there, in the open ground in the sun, drops of sweat breaking out, one who keeps putting his feet forward, his suffering long is not the harm of the shade, surely.