In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Araṅgam: O supreme Master, who take your rest in the sea of milk on the sweet couch of the hooded serpent; O you who, wishing to make the worlds so that all might be saved, brought forth the four-faced one [Brahmā] in your navel; O you who, seeing that the people of the earth would act falsely [against your law], made Kāla [Yama] along with him: O supreme kinsman, now you must protect me, O you who sleep on the serpent couch in Araṅgam.