। ॥ ७२ ॥
In plain words
O beloved of the supreme Lord, at your door a pair of śarabhas has made its home and never leaves it — faces terrible, and with a look like fire, only a look, they freeze the eyes of every bound creature alive. To that pair, my devotion lifted high, I bow.
Close to the Sanskrit
With glances alone that resemble fire, terrifying the eyes of all the beast-folk, its face fearsome, having made its dwelling always at your door — O beloved of the supreme Lord — to that pair of śarabhas, endowed with devotion, I have bowed low.