। ॥
In plain words
O Mother Kāmākṣī, when Grace, a king who fosters the fortune of the empire of fresh youth and the foremost of archers, holding the arrow of your playful glance on the bow of your restless curved brow, sets out to conquer Manmatha's crusher, your lovely smile itself serves as his commander.
Word for word
Of the foremost archer, with the restless-curved-brow-line holding the play-glance-arrow, new-youth-empire-fortune-nourishing, to conquer the Manmatha-crusher, Mother, your, Kāmākṣī, smile itself, lovely, of the grace-king performs the commander-office.