Franklin, John Curtis. 2016. Kinyras: The Divine Lyre. Hellenic Studies Series 70. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_FranklinJ.Kinyras.2016.
Part II: Kinyras on Cyprus
9. Kinyras the Kinyrist
The Etymology of Kinyras
Eustathios has taken the bulk of this passage, somewhat denser than his usual rolling prose, from the corresponding Homeric scholia—one of his principal sources—with mainly cosmetic variations.  As often, however, he includes further details, highlighted in my translation. These are crucial: Kinyras was a musician, and took his name from the kinýra. 
This derivation is too tangential to the Homeric passage, with too many idiosyncratic details, to be ad hoc invention; evidently Eustathios had access to a source well-informed about lamentation-singing in some parts and periods of the kinýra’s native range. That he is reproducing ancient etymologies is corroborated by the trope of Kinyras the Lamenter, present already in one of Ovid’s Greek models.  Since the derivation of kinȳ´resthai from kinýra is obviously of a piece with this, the whole complex can be traced back at least to the Hellenistic period. 
The Conflict with Apollo
Carry me no farther. Come now, come—let me be a kērýlos,
Who flies above the blossom of the wave together with the halcyons,
With fearless heart, a sea-purple sacred bird. 
The image of a lyrist surrounded by birds is very ancient; the two elements are conjoined in iconography of the second and even third millennium, in both the Aegean and ANE.  These scenes are generally held to represent divine epiphany, whether effected by a musician alone or as part of a larger performance. 
Outplaying Orpheus and Thamyris
With songs they charmed the trees, the stones, and animals. 
These verses, though bland, preciously establish Kinyras as a proverbial musician. Indeed, the rhetorical structure, slight as it is, shows that he was considered the best of the lot. And the company he keeps verifies that Kinyras was a lyre-player. The poet was obviously familiar with the etymology known to Eustathios, which was therefore popular. Dismissing Kinyras’ inclusion here as a late, Christianizing artifact would strain incredibly against the cumulative evidence. It may be, however, that his association with kinýra—the instrument of David, and a potent Christian symbol—did give him a renewed edge against the lyrists of Greek pagan mythology. Still, any such favor that Kinyras enjoyed must have been equally rooted in living musical traditions going back to pre-Christian antiquity. In the home range of the knr, ‘Kinyras’—in whatever linguistic guise—will always have stood out from imported Aegean figures, no matter how firmly Hellenistic settlement in the East lodged them in local artistic and literary convention.
The ‘Greek’ Kinýra
For this etymology to work, the short-upsilon kinýra must stand generically for one or more ANE cognates that maintained the original long vowel; but such a universalizing usage is well paralleled (see below).
Crying/Crooning (kinȳrómenai), pour themselves about the men in earnest
Saluting each with hands and speeches,
Imploring the gods to bestow a harmless homecoming. 
The contrast between tenor and vehicle is jarring, discordant; many scholars agree with the scholiast that “the comparison is not sound nor harmonious in all respects … the meadow rejoices and exults, and yet the city is in pain, which is why he says ‘kinȳrómenai’.”  This straightforward reading is certainly natural, and accords with the earlier scene of Jason’s mother lamenting his departure (using the same verb).  Yet this makes all the more striking the lexicographers’ definition of the word as “singing” and “playing music.” The viability of a non-lamentative sense is seconded by another lexical entry—this time with no clear link to Apollonios—which connects kinýra itself with a verb kin ýrō, defined as both “threnodize” and “sing.”  These ‘positive’ musical definitions are a kind of lectio difficilior that must be explained.
It has long been proposed to derive gíngras and several related words from knr, and to see Adonis-Gingras as a doublet of Kinyras.  If this derivation is right, gíngras would constitute yet another epichoric adaptation, presumably localized in Caria if one may trust the sources.  Although it would result in a remarkable semantic shift from lyre to pipes,  this might be explicable via the poetics of ritual performance. 
“Our Kenyristḗs Apollo”: Playing the Kinýra on Cyprus
When T. B. Mitford first published the stone in 1960, he read Apollo’s second cult-title as Ke[r]yṇẹ̄́tēn, connecting it with Keryneia on the north coast. This was not entirely satisfactory: the site is rarely mentioned in ancient sources, and none attests a connection with Apollo.  J.-B. Cayla has recently made a vital contribution, perceiving that the correct reading is in fact Ke[n]yṛ[i]ṣtḗn. This I can corroborate from my own examination of the stone. 
Xanthippe’s irrepressible inner joy clearly does not support a threnodic sense for kinnyrízōn. Some scholars, seeking a parallel with the verb minyrízein, suggest a translation like “someone murmurs inside of me.”  Yet minyrízein typically connotes despondency; even its most positive possible sense, ‘sing in a low tune, warble, hum’, will hardly suit Xanthippe’s ebullience.  The metaphor must convey the ineffable and intimate—even erotic  —exultation with which Jesus fills Xanthippe. For this, thrilling lyre-music would be highly apt. Divine praise-hymns and other celebratory and amatory occasions are well known for the kinnōr in the Bible and the kinnāru elsewhere in the Syro-Levantine world, and are equally attested in Gk. for kinýra—Photios defining “musics” as “glad delights as from pipes and kinýra, and similar things.”  This lyric interpretation is corroborated by the –nn– of kinnyrízōn, which betrays an association with ANE forms like kinnōr (see below). In the Acts of Xanthippe, therefore, we have one of many illustrations of the Christian ‘conversion’ of earlier Pythagorean and Platonic ideas of cosmic harmony and the soul as an attunement (harmonía).  A particularly illuminating parallel comes from Clement of Alexandria (ca. 150–215 CE), who presents Jesus as a new Apollo, Orpheus, Amphion, or Arion—an enchanting “new song” (kainòn aîsma) or incantation (epōidḗ) to replace the seductive deceptions of pagan liturgical music: 
Similar ideas relating to the knr specifically are found in St. Ephraim’s elaboration of the ‘Lyre of the Spirit’ and the ‘Lyres of God’.  Jesus is thus playing sweet, passionate music on Xanthippe’s ‘inner kin(n)ýra’. 
Lost in Translation: Kinýra at the Syro-Levantine Interface