Job 41

41Canst thou draw out leviathan with a fishhook?

Or press down his tongue with a cord?

²Canst thou put a rope into his nose?

Or pierce his jaw through with a hook?

³Will he make many supplications unto thee?

Or will he speak soft words unto thee?

⁴Will he make a covenant with thee,

That thou shouldest take him for a servant for ever?

⁵Wilt thou play with him as with a bird?

Or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?

⁶Will the bands of fishermen make traffic of him?

Will they part him among the merchants?

⁷Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons,

Or his head with fish-spears?

⁸Lay thy hand upon him;

Remember the battle, and do so no more.

⁹Behold, the hope of him is in vain:

Will not one be cast down even at the sight of him?

¹⁰None is so fierce that he dare stir him up;

Who then is he that can stand before me?

¹¹Who hath first given unto me, that I should repay him?

Whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine.

¹²I will not keep silence concerning his limbs,

Nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.

¹³Who can strip off his outer garment?

Who shall come within his jaws?

¹⁴Who can open the doors of his face?

Round about his teeth is terror.

¹⁵His strong scales are his pride,

Shut up together as with a close seal.

¹⁶One is so near to another,

That no air can come between them.

¹⁷They are joined one to another;

They stick together, so that they cannot be sundered.

¹⁸His sneezings flash forth light,

And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

¹⁹Out of his mouth go burning torches,

And sparks of fire leap forth.

²⁰Out of his nostrils a smoke goeth,

As of a boiling pot and burning rushes.

²¹His breath kindleth coals,

And a flame goeth forth from his mouth.

²²In his neck abideth strength,

And terror danceth before him.

²³The flakes of his flesh are joined together:

They are firm upon him; they cannot be moved.

²⁴His heart is as firm as a stone;

Yea, firm as the nether millstone.

²⁵When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid:

By reason of consternation they are beside themselves.

²⁶If one lay at him with the sword, it cannot avail;

Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.

²⁷He counteth iron as straw,

And brass as rotten wood.

²⁸The arrow cannot make him flee:

Sling-stones are turned with him into stubble.

²⁹Clubs are counted as stubble:

He laugheth at the rushing of the javelin.

³⁰His underparts are like sharp potsherds:

He spreadeth as it were a threshing-wain upon the mire.

³¹He maketh the deep to boil like a pot:

He maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.

³²He maketh a path to shine after him;

One would think the deep to be hoary.

³³Upon earth there is not his like,

That is made without fear.

³⁴He beholdeth everything that is high:

He is king over all the sons of pride.