In plain words
The poet, to the Lord: Dhēnuka came against you in the form of an ass, without love; you brought him to ruin and ended his days, flinging him up at the fine palmyra fruit, and with the strength of your shoulders, raised high above him, you made an end of him. Except for those whose longing is for your feet, can anyone be equal to the eternal attendants [nityasūris]?