In plain words
The poet, to the people of the world: Of the three kinds of fruit [born of goodness, passion and darkness], the base, who set their hearts on the two [of passion and darkness], leave that fruit when it is spent, die, come back to be born on earth, and, deluded, taking the body for the self, are bewildered. By no way at all is there a means for them to be saved. If you would be saved, praise Māl, rich in auspicious qualities, who wears cool tulasi strung in clusters, and live.