In plain words
The cowherd girls, to Kṛṣṇa: You whose colour is that of the great dark cloud pouring rain, your low talk and your low tricks drive us to distraction: is your face itself a bewitching charm to cloud our minds? Afraid that people would call us silly little girls, we say nothing that could hurt you. You whose eyes are red lotuses, do not come and wreck our little sand houses.