। ॥ ४२ ॥
In plain words
O daughter of the snowy mountain, when one praises your golden crown densely set with stars turned to rubies, how could he fail to mistake the crescent moon, tinged with the emerald glow of your parrot, for Indra's rainbow?
Close to the Sanskrit
O daughter of the snowy mountain, whoever describes your golden crown densely fashioned by the heavenly stars having attained ruby-hood—how does he not bind the notion that the crescent moon variegated by the reflection of the nest-shade is Indra's bow?