Job 41

1“Can you draw out Leviathan * with a fish hook, or press down his tongue with a cord? 2or pierce his jaw through with a hook? Can you put a rope into his nose, 3or will he speak soft words to you? Will he make many petitions to you, 4that you should take him for a servant forever? Will he make a covenant with you, 5Or will you bind him for your girls? Will you play with him as with a bird? 6Will they part him among the merchants? Will traders barter for him? 7or his head with fish spears? Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, 8Remember the battle, and do so no more. Lay your hand on him. 9Won’t one be cast down even at the sight of him? Behold, the hope of him is in vain. 10Who then is he who can stand before me? None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. 11Everything under the heavens is mine. Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? 12nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame. “I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, 13Who shall come within his jaws? Who can strip off his outer garment? 14Around his teeth is terror. Who can open the doors of his face? 15shut up together with a close seal. Strong scales are his pride, 16that no air can come between them. One is so near to another, 17They stick together, so that they can’t be pulled apart. They are joined to one another. 18His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. His sneezing flashes out light. 19Sparks of fire leap out. Out of his mouth go burning torches. 20as of a boiling pot over a fire of reeds. Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, 21A flame goes out of his mouth. His breath kindles coals. 22Terror dances before him. There is strength in his neck. 23They are firm on him. They can’t be moved. The flakes of his flesh are joined together. 24yes, firm as the lower millstone. His heart is as firm as a stone, 25They retreat before his thrashing. When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. 26nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft. If one attacks him with the sword, it can’t prevail; 27and brass as rotten wood. He counts iron as straw; 28Sling stones are like chaff to him. The arrow can’t make him flee. 29He laughs at the rushing of the javelin. Clubs are counted as stubble. 30leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge. His undersides are like sharp potsherds, 31He makes the sea like a pot of ointment. He makes the deep to boil like a pot. 32One would think the deep had white hair. He makes a path shine after him. 33that is made without fear. On earth there is not his equal, 34He is king over all the sons of pride.” He sees everything that is high.