In plain words
The poet, calling those who would serve the Lord: If any of you stand firm as servants in the service that is true life, come, carry the soil [for the sprouting rite before the festival] and give yourselves to the festival. You who stand as servants only for food, we will not let into our company. We, who for seven generations [counted on every side, twenty-one in all] have been without blame [of seeking any end or means but him], sing "many years" to the one who went into battle with his army until Laṅkā, where the rākṣasas lived, lay in ruin.