In plain words
The cowherd girls, at the door of a cousin, to her and to her mother: O daughter of my uncle, asleep on your bed in the mansion of flawless gems, with lamps burning all around and incense sweet in the air, undo the bolt of your jewelled door! Aunt, will you not wake her? Is your daughter mute, or deaf, or only drowsy? Is she kept under guard, or bound by a spell into a long, deep sleep? We have chanted name after name, "the great wondrous one, Mādhava [Lakṣmī's lord], Lord of Vaikuṇṭha", over and over. Take it up and heed it, girl of ours.