In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Araṅgam: The men of Yama have no mercy, and they will go on inflicting cruelties beyond measure. O you who stand as earth, water, fire, wind and the sky, and all else besides: now, while I can think on them, I have meditated on all your names; so keep me in your heart, O Lord of all, and protect me always, O you who sleep on the serpent couch in Araṅgam.