In plain words
The poet, of what his eyes have seen: He bears in his hands the spiral conch and the fire-flashing discus; his form is like a tall mountain; his tall crown is scented full with the fragrance of tulasi; he is my Master, lovely Araṅgaṉ, the Wondrous One who rests on the serpent, his sweet couch. Ah, his red mouth has stolen my heart!