। ॥ ६२ ॥
In plain words
Take this nectar, Mother — the best there is, poured into a golden cup. Now the betel, fresh and unspoiled: let it touch your lips. Look, here is the mirror, not a smudge on it — see your own lotus face. And the sandals are waiting, jewel by jewel: set your lotus feet down on them, Beautiful One.
Close to the Sanskrit
Receive the supreme nectar, set ready in a golden cup; convey to your lotus-mouth the spotless roll of betel, O Mother. Behold your lotus-face in the flawless disc of the mirror; place upon the jewelled sandals your lotus-feet, O Beautiful One.