In plain words
The poet, to the people of the world: The poisonous serpent [Sumukha], crying, ‘I cannot stand against the fierce enemy close upon me,’ ran and coiled itself round the great couch spread out for the Lord; and the wondrous Lord of the great form gave it into the hands of that mighty one [Garuḍa] for safekeeping. Would anyone become a servant to any but him?