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Job 41

41:1 Dost thou draw leviathan with an angle And with a rope thou lettest down--his tongue 41:2 Dost thou put a reed in his nose And with a thorn pierce his jaw 41:3 Doth he multiply unto thee supplications Doth he speak unto thee tender things 41:4 Doth he make a covenant with thee Dost thou take him for a servant age-during 41:5 Dost thou play with him as a bird And dost thou bind him for thy damsels 41:6 (Feast upon him do companions, They divide him among the merchants!) 41:7 Dost thou fill with barbed irons his skin And with fish-spears his head 41:8 Place on him thy hand, Remember the battle--do not add! 41:9 Lo, the hope of him is found a liar, Also at his appearance is not one cast down 41:10 None so fierce that he doth awake him, And who [is] he before Me stationeth himself  41:11 Who hath brought before Me and I repay Under the whole heavens it [is] mine. 41:12 I do not keep silent concerning his parts, And the matter of might, And the grace of his arrangement. 41:13 Who hath uncovered the face of his clothing Within his double bridle who doth enter 41:14 The doors of his face who hath opened Round about his teeth [are] terrible. 41:15 A pride--strong ones of shields, Shut up--a close seal. 41:16 One unto another they draw nigh, And air doth not enter between them. 41:17 One unto another they adhere, They stick together and are not separated. 41:18 His sneezings cause light to shine, And his eyes [are] as the eyelids of the dawn. 41:19 Out of his mouth do flames go, sparks of fire escape. 41:20 Out of his nostrils goeth forth smoke, As a blown pot and reeds. 41:21 His breath setteth coals on fire, And a flame from his mouth goeth forth. 41:22 In his neck lodge doth strength, And before him doth grief exult. 41:23 The flakes of his flesh have adhered--Firm upon him--it is not moved. 41:24 His heart [is] firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the lower piece. 41:25 From his rising are the mighty afraid, From breakings they keep themselves free. 41:26 The sword of his overtaker standeth not, Spear--dart--and lance. 41:27 He reckoneth iron as straw, brass as rotten wood. 41:28 The son of the bow doth not cause him to flee, Turned by him into stubble are stones of the sling. 41:29 As stubble have darts been reckoned, And he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin. 41:30 Under him [are] sharp points of clay, He spreadeth gold on the mire. 41:31 He causeth to boil as a pot the deep, The sea he maketh as a pot of ointment. 41:32 After him he causeth a path to shine, One thinketh the deep to be hoary. 41:33 There is not on the earth his like, That is made without terror. 41:34 Every high thing he doth see, He [is] king over all sons of pride. 

Young's Literal Translation - Public Domain