In plain words
Yaśōdā longs: "Like streams gleaming as they run down the side of a small dark rock, the string of shell beads at his waist slips down and rises and hangs, and his lovely hips sway from side to side; in the form of a jewel of a child such as no one in this world has ever borne, the one coloured like a fine great sapphire, Vāsudēva: won't he walk his toddling walk?"