O resplendent clouds, swollen with the cool waters, ascending the sacred slopes! O magnificent clouds, gracefully spreading across Thiruvēṅgadam, the eternal abode of Emperumāṇ, who graciously accepted the cosmos as alms from Mahābali! It is Nārāyaṇa who has siphoned away my feminine virtues, rendering me akin to a wood apple fruit, devoid of its essence by the relentless mosquito. Convey unto that Emperumāṇ the depths of my sorrowful affliction.