μητέρα Κύπριν ἔλουσεν Ἔρως ποτὲ τῷδε λοετρῷ,
αὐτὸς ὑποφλέξας λαμπάδι καλὸν ὕδωρ.

ἱδρὼς δ᾽ ἀμβροσίοιο χυθεὶς χροὸς ἄμμιγα λευκοῖς
ὕδασι, φεῦ πνοιῆς ὅσσον ἀνῆψεν ἔαρ:

ἔνθεν ἀεὶ ῥοδόεσσαν ἀναζείουσιν ἀυτμήν,
ὡς ἔτι τῆς χρυσῆς λουομένης Παφίης,

— Paton edition

Love once bathed his mother Cypris in this bath,
himself warming its lovely water with his torch. Ah,
what a scent of spring had the sweat that ran from
her ambrosial body mixing with the clear, white
water! Henceforth from it ever bubbles a vapour
smelling of roses, as if golden Cypris were still
bathing.

— Paton edition