There is no refuge [for me] other than Your feet
[although You] do not curb the grief [that You] give [me], O Lord of Viṟṟuvakkōṭu,
surrounded by groves with blossoms mingled with fragrance!
Even though the mother who gave [him] birth casts [him] aside out of cutting anger the infant cries thinking of her benevolence again.
I have been like that.
⬥taru