Whenever a round of banqueting was over, Job would send for his children and purify them, rising early in the morning to offer burnt offerings for all of them. For Job thought: Perhaps my children have sinned, having cursed God in their hearts. This was Job’s regular practice.

Now when Job’s three friends—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite—heard about all this adversity that had happened to him, each of them came from his home. They met together to go and sympathize with him and comfort him.

May darkness and gloom reclaim it,
and a cloud settle over it.
May an eclipse of the sun terrify it.

fear and trembling came over me
and made all my bones shake.

Does a wild donkey bray over fresh grass
or an ox low over its fodder?

Have I ever said: “Give me something”
or “Pay a bribe for me from your wealth”

My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.

Will You ever look away from me,
or leave me alone long enough to swallow?

Since your children sinned against Him,
He gave them over to their rebellion.

He is a well-watered plant in the sunshine;
his shoots spread out over his garden.

The earth is handed over to the wicked;
He blindfolds its judges.
If it isn’t He, then who is it?

Whatever He tears down cannot be rebuilt;
whoever He imprisons cannot be released.

You put my feet in the stocks
and stand watch over all my paths,
setting a limit for the soles of my feet.

My rebellion would be sealed up in a bag,
and You would cover over my iniquity.

Were you the first person ever born,
or were you brought forth before the hills?

He will no longer be rich; his wealth will not endure.
His possessions will not increase in the land.

For the company of the godless will have no children,
and fire will consume the tents of those who offer bribes.

God hands me over to unjust men;
He throws me into the hands of the wicked.

I have sewn sackcloth over my skin;
I have buried my strength in the dust.

Nothing he owned remains in his tent.
Burning sulfur is scattered over his home.

Don’t you know that ever since antiquity,
from the time man was placed on earth,

He pulls it out of his back,
the flashing tip out of his liver.
Terrors come over him.

Pay close attention to my words;
let this be the consolation you offer.

Look at me and shudder;
put your hand over your mouth.

He is carried to the grave,
and someone keeps watch over his tomb.

So how can you offer me such futile comfort?
Your answers are deceptive.

and consign your gold to the dust,
the gold of Ophir to the stones in the wadis,

He gives them a sense of security, so they can rely on it,
but His eyes watch over their ways.

He stretches the northern skies over empty space;
He hangs the earth on nothing.

He obscures the view of His throne,
spreading His cloud over it.

Proud beasts have never walked on it;
no lion has ever prowled over it.

Wisdom cannot be valued in the gold of Ophir,
in precious onyx or sapphire.

If only I could be as in months gone by,
in the days when God watched over me,

if I ever cast my vote against a fatherless child
when I saw that I had support in the city gate,

Have I rejoiced over my enemy’s distress,
or become excited when trouble came his way?

He puts my feet in the stocks;
He stands watch over all my paths.”

Who gave Him authority over the earth?
Who put Him in charge of the entire world?

God is not partial to princes
and does not favor the rich over the poor,
for they are all the work of His hands.

For His eyes watch over a man’s ways,
and He observes all his steps.

But when God is silent, who can declare Him guilty?
When He hides His face, who can see Him?
Yet He watches over both individuals and nations,

I will get my knowledge from a distant place
and ascribe justice to my Maker.

They swirl about,
turning round and round at His direction,
accomplishing everything He commands them
over the surface of the inhabited world.

Have you ever in your life commanded the morning
or assigned the dawn its place,

I am so insignificant. How can I answer You?
I place my hand over my mouth.

He surveys everything that is haughty;
he is king over all the proud beasts.

Now take seven bulls and seven rams, go to My servant Job, and offer a burnt offering for yourselves. Then My servant Job will pray for you. I will surely accept his prayer and not deal with you as your folly deserves. For you have not spoken the truth about Me, as My servant Job has.”