Job 41

1"Can you pull in the leviathan with a fishhook or tie down his tongue with a rope?

2Can you put a cord through his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook?

3Will he keep begging you for mercy? Will he speak to you with gentle words?

4Will he make an agreement with you for you to take him as your slave for life?

5Can you make a pet of him like a bird or put him on a leash for your girls?

6Will traders barter for him? Will they divide him up among the merchants?

7Can you fill his hide with harpoons or his head with fishing spears?

8If you lay a hand on him, you will remember the struggle and never do it again!

9Any hope of subduing him is false; the mere sight of him is overpowering.

10No one is fierce enough to rouse him. Who then is able to stand against me?

11Who has a claim against me that I must pay? Everything under heaven belongs to me.

12"I will not fail to speak of his limbs, his strength and his graceful form.

13Who can strip off his outer coat? Who would approach him with a bridle?

14Who dares open the doors of his mouth, ringed about with his fearsome teeth?

15His back has rows of shields tightly sealed together;

16each is so close to the next that no air can pass between.

17They are joined fast to one another; they cling together and cannot be parted.

18His snorting throws out flashes of light; his eyes are like the rays of dawn.

19Firebrands stream from his mouth; sparks of fire shoot out.

20Smoke pours from his nostrils as from a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.

21His breath sets coals ablaze, and flames dart from his mouth.

22Strength resides in his neck; dismay goes before him.

23The folds of his flesh are tightly joined; they are firm and immovable.

24His chest is hard as rock, hard as a lower millstone.

25When he rises up, the mighty are terrified; they retreat before his thrashing.

26The sword that reaches him has no effect, nor does the spear or the dart or the javelin.

27Iron he treats like straw and bronze like rotten wood.

28Arrows do not make him flee; slingstones are like chaff to him.

29A club seems to him but a piece of straw; he laughs at the rattling of the lance.

30His undersides are jagged potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.

31He makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment.

32Behind him he leaves a glistening wake; one would think the deep had white hair.

33Nothing on earth is his equal- a creature without fear.

34He looks down on all that are haughty; he is king over all that are proud."