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Job 41

Job 41

[1] “Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook
or press down his tongue with a cord?
[2] Can you put a rope in his nose
or pierce his jaw with a hook?
[3] Will he make many pleas to you?
Will he speak to you soft words?
[4] Will he make a covenant with you
to take him for your servant forever?
[5] Will you play with him as with a bird,
or will you put him on a leash for your girls?
[6] Will traders bargain over him?
Will they divide him up among the merchants?
[7] Can you fill his skin with harpoons
or his head with fishing spears?
[8] Lay your hands on him;
remember the battle—you will not do it again!
[9] Behold, the hope of a man is false;
he is laid low even at the sight of him.
[10] No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up.
Who then is he who can stand before me?
[11] Who has first given to me, that I should repay him?
Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.


[12] “I will not keep silence concerning his limbs,
or his mighty strength, or his goodly frame.
[13] Who can strip off his outer garment?
Who would come near him with a bridle?
[14] Who can open the doors of his face?
Around his teeth is terror.
[15] His back is made of rows of shields,
shut up closely as with a seal.
[16] One is so near to another
that no air can come between them.
[17] They are joined one to another;
they clasp each other and cannot be separated.
[18] His sneezings flash forth light,
and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.
[19] Out of his mouth go flaming torches;
sparks of fire leap forth.
[20] Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke,
as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
[21] His breath kindles coals,
and a flame comes forth from his mouth.
[22] In his neck abides strength,
and terror dances before him.
[23] The folds of his flesh stick together,
firmly cast on him and immovable.
[24] His heart is hard as a stone,
hard as the lower millstone.
[25] When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid;
at the crashing they are beside themselves.
[26] Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail,
nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin.
[27] He counts iron as straw,
and bronze as rotten wood.
[28] The arrow cannot make him flee;
for him, sling stones are turned to stubble.
[29] Clubs are counted as stubble;
he laughs at the rattle of javelins.
[30] His underparts are like sharp potsherds;
he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire.
[31] He makes the deep boil like a pot;
he makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
[32] Behind him he leaves a shining wake;
one would think the deep to be white-haired.
[33] On earth there is not his like,
a creature without fear.
[34] He sees everything that is high;
he is king over all the sons of pride.” (ESV)