In plain words
The poet, waking the Lord: See, the fragrant lotuses have opened; here is the sun, risen from the roaring sea. The women with waists slim as a hand-drum have wrung and shaken out their curling hair, put on their clothes and come up onto the bank. O Lord of Araṅgam ringed by waters: this servant of yours called Toṇṭaraṭippoṭi, on whose shoulder the well-strung tulasi garland and the flower-basket shine, accept in grace as one fit for your grace, and make him the servant of your servants: In grace, rise from your bed.