In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Araṅgam: My coming to you, who have the strength to protect, is all in the thought that you will be my help when my senses fail; though I am no match [for those you promised to save], I have taken refuge in you, because you gave your grace to the elephant. When weariness comes and wears me down, I will not be able to think of you then even for a moment; so for that hour I tell you now, O you who sleep on the serpent couch in Araṅgam.