In plain words
Kaṇṇaṉ, says Yaśōdā, the mothers go off to sell buttermilk and the fathers go off behind the herds of cows and calves, and then you lead the young girls of Āyppāṭi away wherever you please. You roam about forever doing just what delights those who rage at you [such as Śiśupāla], while all who see it reproach you. Cowherd, I know you now for what you are [the Lord, not my child]. I am afraid to give you my milk.