गन्धर्वामरयक्षपन्नगनुते गङ्गाधरालिङ्गितेगायत्रीगरुडासने कमलजे सुश्यामले सुस्थिते ।खातीते खलदारुपावकशिखे खद्योतकोट्युज्ज्वलेमन्त्राराधितदैवते मुनिसुते मां पाहि मीनाम्बिके ॥ ५ ॥
In plain words
Gandharvas, gods, yakṣas and serpents sing your praise. Śiva, who carries the Gaṅgā, holds you close. Gāyatrī and Garuḍa are your seat. You rose from the lotus — deep-dark, beautiful, unshaken. You are past even space. To the deadwood of the wicked you are the tip of the flame; you blaze with ten million suns. You are the deity the mantras worship, the daughter of the sage. Protect me, Mother Mīnākṣī.
Close to the Sanskrit
O you praised by gandharvas, gods, yakṣas and serpents; O you embraced by the bearer of the Gaṅgā; O you whose seat is Gāyatrī and Garuḍa; O lotus-born; O beautifully dark one; O firmly established one; O you gone beyond space; O flame of the fire that burns the wood of the wicked; O you blazing with ten million suns; O deity worshipped by mantras; O daughter of the sage — protect me, O Mīnāmbikā.