In plain words
The poet, to the Lord: There is nothing at all by which one could say "you are such." The wise, who have understood the dispute over you [between your followers and the others], call you the beloved of Piṉṉai of the slender waist. Your form, distinct from all though you were born among them, your names, the places of your birth and the cause of your taking that form: who can think of you in these, unless it is through your own simplicity [that you show yourself]?