In plain words
That reviling too is itself an adornment. Scorn too is itself an adornment. Honour too is itself an adornment. In those days God went on giving this principle of Prema. Hearing that he would lose his life at the hands of this Kṛṣṇa, Kaṃsa, resolved to kill Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa by any means, also went on reviling. He sent Akrūra. ‘Akrūra! You are Kṛṣṇa's friend. You are Kṛṣṇa's supreme devotee. If you go, Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa will surely come. You must surely go,’ he commanded. Unable to refuse the king's command, Akrūra set out. He explained it to Yaśodā and Nanda: ‘Mother, I am taking Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa to see Kaṃsa's yāga,’ he said. ‘You cannot but agree,’ he said. But Yaśodā and Nanda did not like it in the least. Learning of this, the Gopīs gathered at Nanda's house. ‘Balarāma and Kṛṣṇa simply cannot go. He is the very form of our life-breath. Kṛṣṇa is our very life, the very form of all we do. We cannot stay without Him even for one moment. There can be no going to Mathurā’: so they kept raising objections in many ways. Kṛṣṇa wears a human form in play. These Gopīs would not accept any answer at all. He sat in the chariot. He made this chariot invisible to the Gopīs. By His power of Māyā, the very chariot could not be seen. Neither Yaśodā and Nanda nor the Gopīs could see the chariot until it had gone as far as the bank of the Yamunā. With nothing left that they could do, the Gopīs went to Bṛndāvana. ‘Yad bhāvaṃ tad bhavati’: the Gopīs' feeling was that whatever their own Prema was like, that same Prema dwells in everyone. Theirs was a sacred Prema. They went on speaking to everything: to trees that have no mouths, to mountains that have no eyes. There is no mouth to give an answer, no eyes to see. The Gopīs went on questioning all such flowering bushes. They went on questioning even the flowers. What did they keep asking?
The dark One, the One with lotus eyes, the One who pours down the nectar of grace, the One with the peacock feather spread over His crown, whose smile lights up His face: has such a One stolen away the maidens' treasure of honour? O jasmines! He is not hiding behind your bushes, is He? Tell us!