सति । ॥
In plain words
O Kāmākṣī, daughter of the lord of mountains, when the river of my wisdom is drying up under the summer of sin and the peacock of my mind is wasting with grief, why does the greatness of the rain cloud of your shining feet not bring on the splendour of the rains?
Word for word
When drying, in the river of wisdom, by the power of the sin-summer season, when wasted being my mind-peacock with grief, your, O Kāmākṣī, the flashing-foot-cloud greatness the pomp of the Nabhas month, O mountain lord's daughter, why not makes?