। ॥ १ ॥
In plain words
May Kailāsa, king of mountains, always give us good. Along its ridges and slopes, in the bowers of the shining kalpa-groves, the Vidyādhara women lose themselves in play, and what they sing of is Rudra's deeds. Skanda's peacocks call there, and Heramba's high trumpeting sets their crying trembling. And that ground is where Śiva's own bliss is born.
Close to the Sanskrit
May the lord of mountains always bestow welfare on us — Kailāsa, on whose ridge-slopes, in the bowers of the gleaming groves of kalpa trees, the wives of the throngs of Vidyādharas absorbed in play sing of Rudra's exploits; whose peacocks, belonging to the foe of Tāraka, have their crying set aquiver by the loud trumpetings of Heramba; whose ground is the birthplace of Śarva's bliss.