Soft from celestial minstrels came The sound of music and acclaim. Soft, fresh, and cool, a rising breeze Brought odours from the heavenly trees, And ravishing the sight and smell A wondrous rain of blossoms fell: And voices breathed round Raghu’s son: “Champion of Gods, well done, well done.”

In plain words: Heavenly musicians play, a cool sweet breeze blows, and flowers rain down from the sky. Voices praise Rama as the champion of the gods, saying 'well done.'