In plain words
Dēvakī, lamenting to Kaṇṇaṉ: Your kisses from your jewel of a mouth as the forehead jewel set close on your holy brow swung; the sight of your form, so like your father's, that would have cooled my heart within; the words you babble, standing in a temper with your finger in your small red mouth: I, without fortune, was given not one of them. The divine lady Yaśōdā had them all.