In plain words
The poet, to the Lord of Araṅgam: O you who bear Śrī [Mahālakṣmī] and the mole [Śrīvatsa] on your chest, O you who dwell in the great city of Araṅgam! If they keep you shining in their hearts [as their only means] and their minds hold firmly to you [as their goal], then even if they have heaped up deeds by killing and burning, so that every living being on the great earth is in terror, they will not undergo the fruit of those grievous deeds.