Job 41
- “Can you draw out Leviathan with a hook, Or snare his tongue with a line which you lower?
- Can you put a reed through his nose, Or pierce his jaw with a hook?
- Will he make many supplications to you? Will he speak softly to you?
- Will he make a covenant with you? Will you take him as a servant forever?
- Will you play with him as with a bird, Or will you leash him for your maidens?
- Will your companions make a banquet of him? Will they apportion him among the merchants?
- Can you fill his skin with harpoons, Or his head with fishing spears?
- Lay your hand on him; Remember the battle––Never do it again!
- Indeed, any hope of overcoming him is false; Shall one not be overwhelmed at the sight of him?
- No one is so fierce that he would dare stir him up. Who then is able to stand against Me?
- Who has preceded Me, that I should pay him? Everything under heaven is Mine.
- “I will not conceal his limbs, His mighty power, or his graceful proportions.
- Who can remove his outer coat? Who can approach him with a double bridle?
- Who can open the doors of his face, With his terrible teeth all around?
- His rows of scales are his pride, Shut up tightly as with a seal;
- One is so near another That no air can come between them;
- They are joined one to another, They stick together and cannot be parted.
- His sneezings flash forth light, And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
- Out of his mouth go burning lights; Sparks of fire shoot out.
- Smoke goes out of his nostrils, As from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
- His breath kindles coals, And a flame goes out of his mouth.
- Strength dwells in his neck, And sorrow dances before him.
- The folds of his flesh are joined together; They are firm on him and cannot be moved.
- His heart is as hard as stone, Even as hard as the lower millstone.
- When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid; Because of his crashings they are beside themselves.
- Though the sword reaches him, it cannot avail; Nor does spear, dart, or javelin.
- He regards iron as straw, And bronze as rotten wood.
- The arrow cannot make him flee; Slingstones become like stubble to him.
- Darts are regarded as straw; He laughs at the threat of javelins.
- His undersides are like sharp potsherds; He spreads pointed marks in the mire.
- He makes the deep boil like a pot; He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
- He leaves a shining wake behind him; One would think the deep had white hair.
- On earth there is nothing like him, Which is made without fear.
- He beholds every high thing; He is king over all the children of pride.”



