Wtointhe aeaed ain boaied lk race iede ly he sape klikrecahoe fey poiomn constantly heated and boiled its waters. Indeed, the vapors thus created were so poisonous
that birds flying over the contaminated lake would fall down into it. The wind blowing over that deadly lake carried droplets of water to the shore. Simply by coming in contact with that poisonous breeze, all vegetation and creatures on the shore died.
Lord Kṛṣṇa saw how the Kāliya serpent had polluted the Yamunā River with his terribly powerful poison. Since Kṛṣṇa had descended from the spiritual world specifically to subdue envious demons, the Lord immediately climbed to the top of a very high kadamba tree and prepared Himself for battle. He tightened His belt, slapped His arms, and then jumped into the poisonous water.
Kṛṣṇa began sporting in Kāliya's lake like a lordly elephant—-swirling His mighty arms and making the water resound in various ways. When Kāliya heard these sounds, he understood that someone was trespassing in his lake. The serpent could not tolerate this and immediately came forward.
Kāliya saw that Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who wore yellow silken garments, was very delicate, His attractive body shining like a glowing white cloud, His chest bearing the mark of Srivatsa, His face smiling beautifully, and His feet resembling the whorl of a lotus flower. The Lord was playing fearlessly in the water. Despite His wonderful appearance, the envious Kāliya furiously bit Him on the chest and then completely enwrapped Him in his coils.
When the members of the cowherd community, who had accepted Kṛṣṇa as their dearmost friend, saw Him enveloped in the snake's coils, motionless, they were greatly disturbed. They had offered Kṛṣṇa everything—their families, wealth, and wives, all pleasures, and their very selves. At the sight of the Lord in the clutches of the Kāliya snake, their intelligence became deranged by grief, lamentation, and fear, and thus they fell to the ground.