La donna e mobile, qual piuma al vento
muta d'accento e di pensiero
Sempre un amabile, leggiadro viso
in pianto o in riso, e menzognero

E sempre misero, chi a' lei s'affida
chi le confide mal cauto il cuore
Pur mai non sentesi felice appieno
chi su quel seno non liba amore

--
Woman is fickle, as feather in a breeze
she changes her tone and thought
Always lovely, graceful visage
in tears or cheers, is deceitful

And always in misery is he who trust in her
he who confides in her his reckless heart
But one shall never fully joyful
he who from the bosom does not drink love

(La donna e mobile, Giuseppe Verdi)