। ॥ २ ॥
In plain words
Play the Vīṇā and its cadence undoes every other sound — that is what his face beams with. In his quivering trunk a citron gleams; and around him, drawn by the fragrance of trickling musth, a garland of bees keeps circling, restless. Him I praise: the Lord of the Gaṇas, son of Īśāna.
Close to the Sanskrit
Him whose face beams with the cadence of the Vīṇā that undoes all other sound; in whose quivering trunk-staff a gleaming citron shines; around whom a restless garland of bees clusters at the fragrance of the trickling musth—him, the Lord of the Gaṇas, the son of Īśāna, I praise.