In plain words
Yaśōdā coaxes: "When you kicked with your little feet, soft as cotton, till the false cart that Kaṃsa had set against you came apart and was destroyed, I was afraid, you know, that your feet would be hurt, King of the gods; my fear was far beyond the fear of all the herdsfolk together! You who caught Kaṃsa in the net of your own cunning, drink at the breast!"