In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Tirumāliruñcōlai: My legs will not move, my tears will not stay within, my body grows faint and trembles, my voice will no longer rise, the thrill of my hair does not subside, my shoulders droop and never cease drooping, and my mind tosses in love's madness: so that I may live, I have reached you, O my father of Tirumāliruñcōlai, ringed by long pools where the carp leap.