। ॥
In plain words
O Kāmākṣī, the line of your sidelong glances, its colour grown deep where the cool cascade of compassion touches it, looks like a clump of fresh dūrvā grass, always longed for by the bull of Śiva, foe of the cities.
Word for word
Kāmākṣī, cool-compassion-flavour-waterfall-water-contact-thick-lustred, your eye-corner-garland, by the go (bull, rays) always of Pura's foe desired, a dūrvā-clump-imitation spreads.