। ॥ ६८ ॥
In plain words
She gives down, over and over, the nectar of measureless joy. She lives in the spotless cowshed of your feet and never strays. She ripened slowly, out of long-gathered merit. O compassionate Paśupati, Lord of cattle — I have one cow, my bhakti. Keep her for me.
Close to the Sanskrit
Her who yields, again and again, the immeasurable nectar of joy; her who dwells in the spotless cowshed that is your feet; her whose ripening came of abundant merit — O compassionate one, O Lord of cattle, tend for me this one cow of devotion.