In plain words
The poet, of what his eyes have seen: He drove the lord of Laṅkā, ringed by lofty four-square walls, to flight, then loosed one matchless fierce arrow so that his ten heads fell; he is coloured like the sea, the Lord of Araṅgam, where the bees sing sweetly and the great peacocks dance. The band on his holy belly stands within my heart and moves about there.