। ॥ ६२ ॥
In plain words
O you whose teeth are flawless, let me name a likeness for the glow of your lip, red by its own nature. First let the coral vine bear fruit; then there might be a comparison. Not the bimba fruit: it reddened only by catching your lip's reflection. How could it not blush to be weighed against even a fraction of your lip?
Close to the Sanskrit
O you of beautiful teeth, I shall declare a likeness for the lustre of your lip, red by its own nature: let the coral creeper bring forth fruit. Not the bimba — reddened as it is by the redness caught from reflecting that lip, how indeed would it not blush to mount the balance even by a fraction?