Chapter 8

Then answered Baldad the Suhite:

What, still at thy old complaining; blustering still, like a high wind, on and on?

Can sentence undeserved come from God, unjust award from the Almighty?

What if these children of thine committed some fault, and he allowed justice to take its course?

For thyself, thou hast but to keep early tryst with God, make thy plea to his omnipotence.

Then, if thou comest before him innocent and upright, he will give thee audience betimes; he will establish thee in thy possessions again, as one that enjoys his favour.

A poor thing thy old prosperity will seem, matched with the abundance he gives thee now.

Ask counsel of the ages that are long past; let the experience of former men overrule thee.

How blind are we, creatures of a day, whose time on earth passes like a shadow!

Those fathers of ours will be thy best teachers, and this is the advice their wisdom offers thee:

Never yet grew bulrush without moisture, nor reed-bed that lacked water;

fade it must, no leaf so soon, in its first flower, before men have time to gather it.

So frail their happiness, who leave God unremembered; so fade the hopes of false hearts.

Little shall their recklessness avail them; in threads of gossamer they put their trust.

Vain his reliance on the house he has built, vainly he seeks to underpin it.

Here is a plant that seems well-watered enough, spreads abroad its early shoots, but only till the sun rises;

wrapped about stones are the roots of it, and stones all its dwelling-place;

yonder sun must needs drain its life, and the garden will keep no memory of its passage.

So brief its pride; they are waiting even now underground, the shoots that will fill its place.

Trust me, God will not cast off the innocent, will not lend his aid to the malice of their enemies.

Ere long, he will teach those lips to smile, that mouth to sing praise;

brief shall be the triumph of thy foes, brief the security of the wrong-doer.