। ॥
In plain words
O Mother Śrī Kāmākṣī, I have fallen into the blazing fire of becoming, made fiercer by the gale of the flood of karma, and I am troubled by torment and worry. Sprinkle me a little with the drops of your smile's light, pure as rains of nectar, which play at making all things cool.
Word for word
In the blazing becoming-fire-mass, by the karma-flood-fierce-wind's force increased, fallen, torment-worry-troubled, Mother, me sprinkle a little with pure nectar-rains like, Śrī Kāmākṣī, your smile-light-drops, coolness-play-making.