يَكادُ المَشيبُ يُنادي الغَويَّ

وَيحَكَ أَتعَبتَّني بِالمِقَصّ

Gray hair almost calls out to the wayward one:

“Woe to you! You have worn me out with the scissors.

وَتَزعَمُ أَنَّكَ فيما فَعَلتَ

عَلى أَثَرٍ مِن رَشيدٍ تَقَصّ

And you claim that, in what you have done,

you trace the footsteps of someone rightly guided.

وَهَل تِلكَ مِن شِيَمِ الراشِدينَ

وَما زادَ في كُلِّ حالٍ نَقَص

Is that truly among the traits of the rightly guided?

Whatever increases must, in every state, diminish.

وَيا ناظِراً في فُصولِ الخِضابِ

شَغَلَكَ عَن لِمَمٍ أَو عُقَص

O you who pore over the chapters of hair dye,

it has distracted you from flowing locks or braided coils.

إِذا سَرَّ الناسُ عَنكَ الأُمورَ

فَلا تَكُ عَن أَمرِهِم ذا تَقَص

If people keep their affairs secret from you,

do not pry into their concerns.”