In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Tirumāliruñcōlai: O you who went there and with your sacred discus crushed Bāṇa, so that his thousand shoulders scattered and fell in every direction, O my father of Tirumāliruñcōlai: from that time when I lay in the womb I was eager to do you service; today I have come here and seen you and worshipped. Would I let you go now?