Then Eliphaz the Temanite replied to Job:
You may find my words somewhat distressing.
But, regardless -- I really must speak.
You have been to so many, a blessing,
and have strengthened the hands of the weak.
And your words have upheld those who've stumbled;
you've encouraged the frail and afraid.
Oh, but now that your world has crumbled,
you are troubled and greatly dismayed.
Can your God-fearing life not be cherished,
with your hope and your blameless of ways?
Has one innocent soul ever perished?
Or a righteous life shortened of days?
I have noticed that those who sow trouble
are the ones who will harvest the same.
For God's breath can turn all things to rubble,
then consumed by the blast of his flame.
Now, the lion who's roaring has spoken,
and the fierce lion growls as he may;
yet the teeth of young lions lay broken,
while the older ones die without prey.
But a secret was whispered in silence,
amid thoughts and my dreams did it creep.
So disturbing -- I woke with a violence,
when all men should be soundly asleep.
And the dread made me tremble and fear it --
and my bones rattled once and again.
Then a breath brushed my face like a spirit,
and the hair of my flesh stood on end.
It stood still, there before me -- this being,
just as formless and strange as could be.
Still in shock at the sight I was seeing,
it then suddenly whispered to me:
Can a man be more righteous and fervent --
is there anyone purer than God?
For, if God doesn't trust his own servant,
nor the messenger he's sent abroad,
how much less will he trust the ones living
in their houses built simply of dust;
their own fragile frames far less forgiving
than a moth who is easily crushed!
They announce their Hello in the morning;
but by evening, unnoticed, Goodbye.
Are their tent cords not pulled without warning,
so without any wisdom they die?