In plain words
So He is cultivating the field of our heart. Kṛṣatīti kṛṣṇa: that is its meaning. Karṣa… …ti kṛṣṇaḥ: that is the second meaning. Karṣa means the one who attracts. He attracts with His eyes. He attracts with His words. He attracts with His words. He attracts with His actions. He attracts with His glances. Everything of Kṛṣṇa's is attraction. With these words He cools hearts filled with anger. He turns it to laughter. Once, when Kṛṣṇa was a little child, He went into a Gopī's house, climbed a pillar and was taking all the curd that was in the pula in the house. The Gopī came, angry. She held the pillar tight. How will You get down now? I will see. Now I will take You to Your mother and show her. She says, 'My son does no wrong.' 'I will show her the wrong plainly, before her eyes,' she said. The Gopī who had come in anger: What are You doing here, Kṛṣṇa! He says, 'A calf has gone missing from our house; I am looking to see whether it is here,' He said. The moment she heard these words, that Gopī could not help laughing, poor thing. Laughing that the calf would be inside a pot in her house, she shut the house. Kṛṣṇa climbed down and went away. Every … … in …: attraction. Kṛṣṇa dwells in attraction. Then the third: kaṣ tati kṛṣṇa. Khuṣ means khuṣi, being cheerful. Kṛṣṇa was always vuppipaḍēvāḍu with cheerfulness. Because His tattva had these wonderful qualities, Garga gave Him the name Kṛṣṇa. But Kṛṣṇa means dark. We hold on to the dark one and play, but we do not enquire into its true meaning. He was the one who filled life with delight through humour.
See a small example. All the Gopīs came to Yaśodā. We cowherd women… …, while we go selling buttermilk, He asked us for a toll on the buttermilk pots and knocked holes in them. Ask Him, mother, ask Him.
While we were bathing, He bundled up all our saris and from up in the ponna tree, however much we begged, He would not give them, mother. Ask Him, mother, ask Him. At midnight He climbed onto our terrace and came, lifted the braids of the sleeping women, tied them together and came away. Ask Him, mother, ask Him.
He is listening to all this, sitting near Yaśodā. Telling her, 'Make this judgement yourself,' He handed it over to Yaśodā.
Mother, I lay beside you, without stirring or moving; at midnight, when did I go out and come back? Say it, mother! Say it! When they were bringing it to God, to offer it to the deity, God, it seems, scorched it, and not knowing, they put the blame on Me.