। ॥
In plain words
O Goddess Kāmākṣī, may the lion king of your grace, rising from the dense thicket of your glance with graceful movements that surge and blossom, quickly scatter the herd of my delusions far away, as a lion scatters deer.
Word for word
With surging-clustered graceful plays rising, Devī, from your dense-glance-thicket, far may put to flight the delusion-doe-herd my, Kāmākṣī, quickly, the grace-lion-king.