In plain words
He said it in the Bhāgavata:
When the servants drag at the noose, crying, ‘Come on, come on’, when the relatives say in haste, ‘Put him outside now, there is no use’, when wife and children wail and weep, can you then speak the Name of Hari with your mouth!
So we who have thought such sacred thoughts beforehand may find, at the end, with that very feeling, sacred feelings rising up in us that become the foundation for our life and for our rebirth. So, whatever sacred works we may have to do, whatever works for the good of the world we may have to take up, this is a fine age, a sacred age. At such a sacred age, the things we must do and the things we must hold to are sacred karmas; I hope that you will make them your own today, and through them bring welfare to our future, to our Bhārata and to this culture too. We must not give in to passing pleasures and joys, or to selfishness, and set about driving sacred feelings out of our hearts. At times, how far does our friendship go? Its roots are sunk so deep that body cannot bear to be parted from body and kept far apart. When Akrūra came and was taking Kṛṣṇa and Balarāma to Mathurā, the pain the gopīs suffered and the anguish the cowherd boys went through were beyond words. The friendships bound up with Prema that these two had were themselves the cause of such pain. Many gopīs caught hold even of the fearsome horses, seized their legs and set about stopping them from moving on. The gopīs caught hold of the chariot wheels too, and let go when they had no strength left. At last, unable to bear it any longer: ‘Who are you, sir? You came bearing the name Akrūra, but you are cruel through and through. This name does not suit you,’ so the gopīs even reproached him. Then, with no help for it, after Kṛṣṇa had gone, they fell down right in the middle of that road and went on pouring out to one another, in many ways, all the anguish each of them felt. One gopī, so it is told, said: