In plain words
The poet, to the Lord: Beyond this much, calling Nārāyaṇa, I know nothing at all of good or evil. Mark this, O Tirumāl [Śrī's consort]: I am not one who, out of meanness [seeking some reward], speaks deceitful words to praise you. I know not one of the ways to meditate on you unceasingly; without ceasing I say Namō Nārāyaṇa. My strength, mark it, is the strength of being called a Vaiṣṇava who lives in your temple.