² Job: All the things from you sound the same.
        You are all terrible as comforters!
³     Have we reached the end of your windy words,
        or are you sick with something that compels you to argue with me?
⁴     If we were to trade places,
        I could rattle on as you do.
    I could compose eloquent speeches as you do
        and shake my head smugly at you and your problems.
⁵     But I believe I would use my words to encourage you;
        my lips would move only to offer you relief.

⁶     And yet, I am not you, you are not me,
        and my words are of no real use:
    When I speak, my pain is not relieved;
        if I remain silent, it does not go away.