Oh maidens adorned with fine jewels! Will the bangles that joyously encircle my wrists not rival the divine conch that He, in His bliss, holds in His celestial hand? Thiruvaranganāthar, the revered Lord of Srīrangam, who reposes on the sacred serpent bed of Thiruvandhāzhwān, whose visages seem stern to me in my distress—for He aids not in my plight—has yet to gaze upon my countenance. Alas! How my heart longs for but a single glance from Him!