In plain words
A cowherd girl, to Kṛṣṇa, in a lovers' quarrel: O you who lie on the couch of the hooded serpent! O perfect one! We are not the women we were before, to be caught by your words; nor are we the women you delight in, with bright, kohl-darkened eyes dark as bees. Stop coming to our quarter at untimely hours. What we suffered one day, taking your lies for truth at the sight of your lovely garment, your holy face, your lips red as ripe fruit and your locks, is enough. Speak no more deceitful words; go.