। ॥
In plain words
O Śrī Kāmākṣī, Paśupati is ceaselessly in thrall to the sprouts of your gentle smile, and we suspect that it is from love of matching their colour that he wears the moon and the river of heaven as his crest, puts on a garland of fresh white blossoms, and covers himself with heaps of ash.
Word for word
Unceasingly made dependent Paśupati by your gentle-smile-sprouts, Śrī Kāmākṣī, from their-colour-sameness-attachment we suspect: the moon, the heaven-river and crest-makes, a garland and wears of fresh vaikuṇṭha flowers, a covering and makes with dust-heaps of ash.