× Podcast Music Director Bill Hemminger Biography Photos Videos Articles and Reviews Radio Broadcast Schedule History of the EPO Mission and Values Board of Directors 2025-2026 Sponsors 2025-2026 Philharmonic Gives Back Donors 8/21/2024- 8/21/2025 Thoughtful Tributes 8/21/2024 - 8/21/2025 Past Events
Home Podcast Music Director Bill Hemminger Biography Photos Videos Articles and Reviews Radio Broadcast Schedule History of the EPO Mission and Values Board of Directors 2025-2026 Sponsors 2025-2026 Philharmonic Gives Back Donors 8/21/2024- 8/21/2025 Thoughtful Tributes 8/21/2024 - 8/21/2025
Giuseppe Verdi
“La donna è mobile” from Rigoletto

ITALIAN TEXT

La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento — e di pensier.
Sempre un amabile,
Leggiadro viso,
In pianto o in riso, — è menzognero.
È sempre misero
Chi a lei s'affida,
Chi le confida — mal cauto il cuore!
Pur mai non sentesi
Felice appieno
Chi su quel seno — non liba amore!
La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento — e di pensier,
E di pensier,
E di pensier!


ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Woman is fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
She changes her voice — and her mind.
Always sweet,
Pretty face,
In tears or in laughter, — she is always lying.
Always miserable
Is he who trusts her,
He who confides in her — his unwary heart!
Yet one never feels
Fully happy
Who on that bosom — does not drink love!
Woman is fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
She changes her voice — and her mind,
And her mind,
And her mind!

Giuseppe Verdi
“La donna è mobile” from Rigoletto

ITALIAN TEXT

La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento — e di pensier.
Sempre un amabile,
Leggiadro viso,
In pianto o in riso, — è menzognero.
È sempre misero
Chi a lei s'affida,
Chi le confida — mal cauto il cuore!
Pur mai non sentesi
Felice appieno
Chi su quel seno — non liba amore!
La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento — e di pensier,
E di pensier,
E di pensier!


ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Woman is fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
She changes her voice — and her mind.
Always sweet,
Pretty face,
In tears or in laughter, — she is always lying.
Always miserable
Is he who trusts her,
He who confides in her — his unwary heart!
Yet one never feels
Fully happy
Who on that bosom — does not drink love!
Woman is fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
She changes her voice — and her mind,
And her mind,
And her mind!