। ॥ ३६ ॥
In plain words
I am the devotee, and this is my rite. The pot is my mind: clear water, wound round with the cord of devotion, filled to the brim with the nectar of joy. On its mouth, Sāmba, I set your two feet, tender as new leaves — they are my coconut, the fruit that is pure awareness. Sattva is the mantra I chant. The house I purify is this body of mine. So I declare the day auspicious, and radiant good comes.
Close to the Sanskrit
I, the devotee, having installed, O Sāmba, your pair of sprout-tender feet as the fruit of consciousness in the pot that is the mind — wound round with the cord of devotion, brimming with the nectar of joy, and clear — uttering sattva as the mantra, carrying out the purification of the dwelling that is my own body, bringing about radiant welfare, I openly perform the rite of the auspicious day.