In plain words
The poet, to the Lord: O Lord, the first cause, who rule [and protect] before creation, at creation and at the deluge; who became a matchless infant, eagerly swallowed the seven worlds and slept on a banyan leaf! O you who wear the garland of cool tulasi where the bees probe! O you whose chest is the dwelling of the lady born of the lotus [Śrī Mahālakṣmī], ever joined with auspicious qualities! O consort of Bhūmi [the Earth]!