। ॥
In plain words
O Kāmākṣī, may your gentle smile swallow up the turbidity of my mind: in the hollows of the bower of your swaying glances it becomes a clear white cluster of blossoms, in the waves of the sea of your moon-face's radiance it becomes a spread of foam, and over your close-set breasts it becomes a covering of silk.
Word for word
In the swaying-mature-glance-bower-hollows very-clear-cluster-become, in the face-moon-lustre-sea-wave-mass foam-spread-become, on the gaplessly-swelling-breast-slope silk-cloth-become, turbidity may swallow my your, Kāmākṣī, gentle smile.