In plain words
The poet, to the Lord: O Vāmana, [who came to win back the earth]! The wise say you are Kaṇṇaṉ, whose hands shook down the fruits of the tall wood-apple heavy with fruit, felled the flowering kuruntam that stood against you, and tore apart the horse [Kēśi]. You drank the herdswoman's [Yaśōdā's] milk and ate butter, and you drank the demoness's [Pūtanā's] milk; at the close of an age you kept the earth in your belly, and at the beginning of an age you became a matchless boar.