In plain words
Yaśōdā sings: "Śrī, the lady on the honey-filled flower, has sent a garland deftly strung of fragrant tulasi from the woods, and a wreath for your brow from the kaṟpakam tree whose rich groves fill the sky. My King, do not cry, do not cry, tālēlō! You who lie at Kuṭantai, tālēlō!"