In plain words
The poet, of the fruit of this decad: "Crow, come and comb the bee-haunted hair of the one coloured like the rain-cloud, so that those who see him find no fault": these words of the herdswoman [Yaśōdā] are set down by Paṭṭaṉ, lord of Villiputtūr with its sky-touching walls; for those who sing them with delight, their deeds will not come near.