In plain words
Yaśōdā coaxes: "You who dwell happily in Villiputtūr, where bees that slip into the loosened tresses of women with waists slender as lightning hum their sweet tunes; Hṛṣīkēśa, who have brought me the praise of all who see you, 'What vow did she keep, the woman whose womb bore this child?': drink at the breast!"