। ॥ ६ ॥
In plain words
For the slayer of the cities, as the poison is drunk as far as his throat, how could its rush not become cruel if, O Mother, this half of the body — always cool and flooded with Amṛta — were not there for his relief?
Close to the Sanskrit
For the slayer of the cities, the rush of the poison being drunk as far as the throat — how would it not become cruel if this half, O Mother, were not yours for his relief: the half of a body always cool and flooded with Amṛta?