। ॥ ३३ ॥
In plain words
May Śiva’s lofty crown forever shatter the mass of our troubles. Pārvatī’s close companions have plucked flowers fit for love’s adornment and bound them into garlands around it; bees gather, drawn by their spreading fragrance. Its ruby brilliance laughs at the summit of the great mountain where the gods dwell.
Close to the Sanskrit
May the lofty crown of Śiva—adorned with garlands of flowers fit for love’s adornment and plucked by the true companions of the mountain king’s daughter, attracting bees with the fragrance spreading from those rows of garlands, and mocking the summit of the great mountain abode of the gods with its ruby radiance—ever break apart the mass of our troubles.