Thou wouldst call and I would answer,
Thou wouldst yearn for the work of thy hands!
But now thou countest my steps,
And dost not forgive my sin;
My transgression is sealed in a bag,
Thou hast kept on record my guilt.
But the mountain crumbles to pieces,
And the rock is moved from its place;
The water wears down the stones,
The floods wash away the soil;
So thou destroyest man's hope,
And he goes, vanquished by thee, forever; With altered mien, thou dost send him away.
His sons attain honor, unknown to him,
Or shame, but he does not perceive it.
Only his body is wracked,
And the soul within him mourns.
THE SECOND CYCLE OF SPEECHES
369. ELIPHAZ: IT IS IMPIETY TO QUESTION THE JUSTICE OF GOD'S RULE
Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered:
Should a wise man reply with mere bluster,
And be full of intemperate speech?
Should he reason with profitless babble,
Or with speeches of no avail ?
See, you are destroying religion,
Impairing devout meditation.
For your wickedness prompts your speech,
And you choose the tongue of the crafty.
Your own mouth condemns you, not I,
And your own lips are witness against you.
Were you the first man to be born,
Brought forth before the hills?
Do you hear God's secret council,
And is wisdom revealed to you only?
What know you, that we know not?
What insight have you that we lack?
With us are the gray and the aged,
Men older by far than your father.
Do you spurn the divine consolations,
The words spoken gently to you?
Why do your feelings control you,
And why do your eyes roll in frenzy,
That you set your will against God,
And let such words escape you?
What is man, that he should be clean,
Or one born of woman, innocent?
If God trusts not even his holy ones,
And the heavens are unclean in his sight,
How much more abhorrent and filthy
A man who drinks evil like water!
In his ears is the sound of terrors,
In prosperity comes the spoiler,
For his hand he has raised against God,
And has even defied the Almighty.
370. JOB: EVEN THOUGH UNJUSTLY AFFLICTED, MAN HAS A FRIEND IN HEAVEN
Then Job answered:
Many such things have I heard;
You all are wearisome comforters.
Is there no end to vain words?
What provokes you that you answer?
I too could speak like you;
If you were but in my place,
I could join words together against you,
And at you could shake my head.
God has given me up to knaves,
Cast me into the hands of the wicked.
I was at ease, but he shattered me,
By the neck he seized and crushed me;
He has set me up as his target,
From all sides his arrows assail me.
I sewed sackcloth upon my skin,
And have humbled myself in the dust.
My face is red with weeping,
Deep darkness is over my eyelids;
Although I have done no violence,
And though my prayer is pure.
O earth, cover not my blood,
Let my cry find no place to rest.
Even now is my Witness in heaven,
He who vouches for me is on high.
My friends pour their scorn upon me,
But my eye pours out tears to God,
That he plead for a man with God
As a mortal pleads with his neighbor!
371. BILDAD: DISASTER ALWAYS OVERTAKES THE WICKED
Then Bildad the Shuhite answered:
When will you end mere words?
Consider, and then we will speak.
Why are we counted as beasts,
And deemed unclean by you?
You who tear yourself in your anger,
Shall the earth be forsaken for you,
Or the rock be removed from its place?
The light of the wicked is quenched,
And the flame of his fire shines not.
The light is dark in his tent,
And the lamp above him goes out,
His confident strides are shortened,
And his own counsel proves his ruin,
For his foot is thrust into a net,
And he walks straight into the toils.
A trap shall catch his heel,
And a snare shall tightly grip him.
Disaster shall hunger for him,
And misfortune await his stumbling.
His memory shall fade from the land,
No fame shall he have abroad.
Driven from light into darkness,
From the world shall he be banished.
372. JOB: HE WHO AFFLICTS WILL VINDICATE HIS SERVANT AFTER DEATH
Then Job answered:
How long will you force me to suffer,
And break me in pieces with words?
These many times you reproach me,
Yet are not ashamed to attack me.
If it even were true that I erred,
My error is mine alone.
If indeed you would rise up against me,
And charge me with shameful crimes,
Then know that God has betrayed me,
And has spread his net about me.
I cry, 'Wrong!' but I am not heard;
I call, but there is no justice.
He has blocked my way completely,
Has shrouded my path in darkness;
He has stripped me of my glory,
And taken the crown from my head.
My brothers keep far from me,
My friends are wholly estranged.
My neighbors have ceased to know me,
The guests in my house have forgotten me.
My own maids count me a stranger,
In their sight I am but an alien.
To my servant I call, with no answer;
With my mouth I must entreat him.
All my intimate friends abhor me,
And they whom I love turn against me.
My skin clings to my bones,
I escape by the skin of my teeth.
Have pity, have pity, my friends,
For the hand of God has touched me.
|