Job 41:19–34

Comets pour out of his mouth,

fireworks arc and branch.

Smoke erupts from his nostrils

like steam from a boiling pot.

He blows and fires blaze;

flames of fire stream from his mouth.

All muscle he is—sheer and seamless muscle.

To meet him is to dance with death.

Sinewy and lithe,

there’s not a soft spot in his entire body—

As tough inside as out,

rock-hard, invulnerable.

Even angels run for cover when he surfaces,

cowering before his tail-thrashing turbulence.

Javelins bounce harmlessly off his hide,

harpoons ricochet wildly.

Iron bars are so much straw to him,

bronze weapons beneath notice.

Arrows don’t even make him blink;

bullets make no more impression than raindrops.

A battle ax is nothing but a splinter of kindling;

he treats a brandished harpoon as a joke.

His belly is armor-plated, inexorable—

unstoppable as a barge.

He roils deep ocean the way you’d boil water,

he whips the sea like you’d whip an egg into batter.

With a luminous trail stretching out behind him,

you might think Ocean had grown a gray beard!

There’s nothing on this earth quite like him,

not an ounce of fear in that creature!

He surveys all the high and mighty—

king of the ocean, king of the deep!”