In plain words
The poet, of the fruit of this decad: Paṭṭaṉ of Putuvai [the poet himself], where the Veda-knowers of true speech gather, has set down in words how the herdswoman sang lullabies to the one coloured like kohl, who drank at the breast of the demoness [Pūtanā] who came in deceit [in a mother's form]; for those who can recite them, leaving none out, there is no sorrow at all.