In plain words
The cowherd girls, to Kṛṣṇa, asking him for what they came for: You were born the son of one woman [Dēvakī], and that same night became the son of another [Yaśōdā] and grew up in hiding; when Kaṃsa could not bear it and plotted evil, you brought his design to nothing and stood like fire in his belly. O Neṭumāl, boundless in love for your own, we have come begging of you. If you will give us the drum, we shall sing of your wealth, worthy of Śrī, and of your valour, and with our sorrow of parting from you gone, we shall rejoice. Take it up and heed it, girl of ours.