In plain words
A cowherd girl, to Kṛṣṇa, in a lovers' quarrel: While there was nectar in the milk of your mother's [Yaśōdā's] breast, you crawled and went on faltering steps, put your mouth to the ogress's [Pūtanā's] breast and drank the poison, and stood there while others reviled you as a madman. And while I waited with a great love that has turned me pale as gold, you fully enjoyed great pleasure with my own maid, the messenger I sent to you. That too fits your mischief, does it not?