In plain words
The poet, to the Lord: O wondrous one! Becoming a herdsman, you desired the bamboo-like shoulders of the herdsmen's girl [Piṉṉai]. Who, of those in the heavens [Brahmā and the rest] and those on earth, can search you out? Is it only the ignorance born of matter that keeps them from it? It is not. Besides this: though you gave souls their bodies and senses, when they went to ruin, using them for other ends, you made them subside into primal matter. All that you resolve is wonder.