In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Araṅgam: I was born in no town where you dwell; I hold no land for your service; I have no kin there and no one else at all; and on this earth I have not held to your very feet, Supreme Lord. O you coloured with the glow of the rain-cloud, O my Kaṇṇaṉ, I cry out: who else is there to be my refuge, my Lord, O you who dwell in the great city of Araṅgam?