। ॥
In plain words
When Smara's foe bows to her, his mind fearful after a lovers' quarrel, the moon that keeps house in the sky of his crest takes on the glow of twilight from the beauty of her feet. May my heart play tirelessly at those feet of Kāmākṣī.
Word for word
Of the one become bowed, of the one with a mind afraid of a love-quarrel, of Smara's enemy, in the crest-sky the householder moon, of which the twilight glow bears by their beauty, of the feet, in those my, Kāmākṣī's, heart, unwearied, may it sport.