Bildad begins with indignation: how long will Job go on talking like this, with words like a great wind? He asks whether God perverts justice and whether the Almighty perverts what is right. Then he says something very harsh: if Job's children sinned against God, he delivered them into the hand of their transgression. But if Job seeks God earnestly and is pure and upright, God will rouse himself for him and restore his rightful place. His beginning will seem small, but his latter days will be very great.
To support his argument, Bildad calls Job to ask the former generation and to consider what the fathers discovered. We are of yesterday and know nothing, he says, and our days are a shadow, but they will teach you and speak from their hearts.
Then he uses images from nature. Can papyrus grow where there is no marsh, or reeds flourish without water? While still green and uncut, it withers before any other plant. Such are the paths of all who forget God, and so the hope of the godless perishes. His confidence is a spider's web, and his house does not stand. He is like a green plant in the sun, spreading its shoots over the garden, but when it is torn from its place, that place denies it: I never saw you.
Bildad ends with a promise: God will not reject the blameless or take the hand of evildoers. He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy, and your enemies will be clothed with shame, and the tent of the wicked will be no more.