। ॥
In plain words
O Mother Kāmākṣī, when the night of your side glance, washed in your gentle smile's moonlight, turns toward an embodied one, ah, even if he is slow of wit, the spoken word, shaming the proud sweetness of grapes and honey, comes to him of herself at once, like a lovely-eyed woman to her tryst.
Word for word
On whom, O Mother, your glance-night, slow even, bathed with gentle-smile moonlight, becomes facing toward him, ah, the embodied, shaming the pride of the sweetness of grape and honey, vaikharī, O Kāmākṣī, herself makes a tryst like a lovely-eyed one at once.