Job 41

₁ “Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook

or press down his tongue with a cord?

₂Can you put a rope in his nose

or pierce his jaw with a hook?

₃Will he make many pleas to you?

Will he speak to you soft words?

₄Will he make a covenant with you

to take him for your servant forever?

₅Will you play with him as with a bird,

or will you put him on a leash for your girls?

₆Will traders bargain over him?

Will they divide him up among the merchants?

₇Can you fill his skin with harpoons

or his head with fishing spears?

₈Lay your hands on him;

remember the battle—you will not do it again!

₉ Behold, the hope of a man is false;

he is laid low even at the sight of him.

₁₀No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up.

Who then is he who can stand before me?

₁₁Who has first given to me, that I should repay him?

Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.

₁₂“I will not keep silence concerning his limbs,

or his mighty strength, or his goodly frame.

₁₃Who can strip off his outer garment?

Who would come near him with a bridle?

₁₄Who can open the doors of his face?

Around his teeth is terror.

₁₅His back is made of rows of shields,

shut up closely as with a seal.

₁₆One is so near to another

that no air can come between them.

₁₇They are joined one to another;

they clasp each other and cannot be separated.

₁₈His sneezings flash forth light,

and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.

₁₉Out of his mouth go flaming torches;

sparks of fire leap forth.

₂₀Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke,

as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.

₂₁His breath kindles coals,

and a flame comes forth from his mouth.

₂₂In his neck abides strength,

and terror dances before him.

₂₃The folds of his flesh stick together,

firmly cast on him and immovable.

₂₄His heart is hard as a stone,

hard as the lower millstone.

₂₅When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid;

at the crashing they are beside themselves.

₂₆Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail,

nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin.

₂₇He counts iron as straw,

and bronze as rotten wood.

₂₈The arrow cannot make him flee;

for him sling stones are turned to stubble.

₂₉Clubs are counted as stubble;

he laughs at the rattle of javelins.

₃₀His underparts are like sharp potsherds;

he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire.

₃₁He makes the deep boil like a pot;

he makes the sea like a pot of ointment.

₃₂Behind him he leaves a shining wake;

one would think the deep to be white-haired.

₃₃On earth there is not his like,

a creature without fear.

₃₄He sees everything that is high;

he is king over all the sons of pride.”