So that your reputation may go throughout the countryside,
So it can rise to the heavens,
engraved on a pine tree,
Calling on all the gods and pouring out wine
I consecrate to your name this lovely fountain.

Shepherds, may your flocks clad in white wool
Pasture on these banks; may thyme flourish there
And the flower whose master had so bad a fate
And be named forever the fountain of Helen.

The passer-by in summer may rest there,
And sitting on the grass in the shade, compose
A thousand songs about Helen, and remind her of me,

Whoever drinks from your water, let him become enamoured;
And in drinking it in, may he draw a flame
So hot, that I shall feel my own flame warm in my heart.