In plain words
The poet, of the Lord: Vēṅkaṭam, where the incense that women with radiant, spear-like eyes carry with garlands of fresh flowers on the day of Dvādaśī darkens the sky so that the stars here and there vanish, is the hill of him who one day long ago [as Rāma] shot the deer [Mārīca] so that it died.