In plain words
A cowherd girl, to Kṛṣṇa, in a lovers' quarrel: In this town there are so many herdswomen with lovely flowers in their fragrant tresses. I knew well that it was not for me to long to embrace your chest as mine alone, and still I listened to your lie: caught in a chill of dew that fell like heavy rain, shrinking lest anyone see me and trembling, I stood till dawn on a long mound of sand by the river Yamunā, watching for you to come, O Vāsudēva.