Job 32

1 So these three men ceased to respond to Job, because, he, was righteous in their eyes.

2 Then was kindled the anger of Elihu, son of Barachel the Buzite of the family of Ram, —against Job, was kindled his anger, because he justified his own soul rather than God;

3 and, against his three friends, was kindled his anger, —because that they found not a response, and condemned God.

4 But, Elihu, had waited for Job with words, because the others were older than he.

5 Howbeit, when Elihu saw that there was no response in the mouth of the three men, then was kindled his anger.

6 So then Elihu, son of Barachel, the Buzite, responded and said: —Young, am I, whereas, ye, are aged, For this cause, I faltered, and feared—to shew my knowledge unto you:

7 I said, Days, should speak, —and, the multitude of years, should make known wisdom.

8 Yet surely, there is a spirit in men, and, the inspiration of the Almighty, giveth them understanding;

9 Great men, may not be wise, nor, elders, understand justice.

10 Therefore, I said, Hearken unto me, I will show my knowledge—even I.

11 Lo! I waited for your words, I kept giving ear for your reasons, until ye should search out what to say;

12 Yea, unto you, gave I diligent heed, —But lo! there was, for Job, nothing to convince, nor could you of you answer his speeches.

13 Lest ye should say, We have found out wisdom. GOD, must put him to flight, not man.

14 Since he directed not to me discourse, therefore, with your speeches, will I not reply to him.

15 They were dismayed, they responded no more, they suffered speech to forsake them;

16 Though I waited, yet could they not speak, Surely they came to a stand, they responded no more.

17 I will respond, even I—on my part, I will shew my knowledge, even I!

18 For I am full of discourse, The spirit in my bosom, presseth me on.

19 Lo! my bosom, is like wine not opened, Like new wine-skins, it will burst.

20 I will speak, that I may freely breathe, I will open my lips and respond.

21 Let me be partial to no man, and, unto no son of earth, give flattering titles,

22 Surely I know not how to give flattering titles, How soon might my Maker take me away!