। ॥ ७१ ॥
In plain words
Bowed low, palms joined, their faces bright with the love those joined palms make plain, the three streams of the lineage come slowly into the presence, modest, aching with longing — and I hold in mind that first radiance, whatever it is, its brilliance standing at full height, laying open for them the whole host of mantras, all their meaning, the practice each one asks, the fruit each one gives.
Close to the Sanskrit
The triad of oghas having bowed low, its faces bright with love made manifest by folded hands, slowly going into the presence, modestly and with longing — I contemplate that primal radiance, whatever it be, of towering lustre, expounding the manifold host of mantras, their entire meaning, their means of accomplishment, their fruit.