। ॥ ६ ॥
In plain words
A pot. A lump of clay. An atom. Smoke, fire, the mountain. A cloth, a thread. Will any of them turn Death aside when he comes for you? You are wearing your throat raw for nothing, hurling logic at full speed. Worship the lotus feet of Śambhu. Walk into the highest joy. Have some sense.
Close to the Sanskrit
A pot, or a lump of clay, or even an atom, and smoke, fire, the mountain, a cloth, or a thread — does any of them ward off terrible Death? In vain you bear the straining of your throat, headlong, with the speech of logic. Worship the lotus foot of Śambhu; go to the highest bliss, as one with sense.