In plain words
My Rāṇā, I shall sing the praises of Govind. If the king is angry, let him keep his own city; but if Hari is angry, where am I to go? The Rāṇā sent a cup of poison; I took it for nectar and drank it down. The black snake he sent me in a little box, I knew for a śālagrām. Mīrā Bāī is crazed with prema; I have gained the dark one for my bridegroom.