Job 41

LITV(i) 1 Can you draw out the leviathan with a hook, or hold down his tongue with a cord? 2 Can you put a reed rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw with a thorn? 3 Will he multiply pleas for help to you; or will he speak soft words to you? 4 Will he cut a covenant with you; will you take him for a slave forever? 5 Will you play with him as with a bird; or will you tie him up for your maidens? 6 Shall your partners bargain over him; shall they divide him among the merchants? 7 Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fishing spears? 8 Put your hand on him; remember the battle; you will not do it again! 9 Behold, his hope has been made false; will he not be cast down at the sight of him? 10 None is so fierce as to dare to stir him up. Who then is able to stand before Me? 11 Who has gone before Me that I should repay? All under the heavens, it is Mine! 12 I will not keep silent as to his limbs, or the matter of his powers, or the grace of his frame. 13 Who can take off the face of his covering; who can come with his double bridle? 14 Who can pry open the doors of his face? Terror is all around his teeth. 15 The rows of shields are his pride, shut up with a tight seal; 16 one is so near to another that no air can come between them; 17 they are joined to one another; they clasp each other, so that they cannot be separated. 18 His sneezings flash forth light, and his eyes are as the eyelids of the dawn. 19 Out of his mouth go burning torches; sparks of fire fly out. 20 Smoke goes out of his nostrils like a boiling pot fired by reeds. 21 His breath kindles coals and the flame goes out from his mouth. 22 Strength abides in his neck and terror dances before him. 23 The folds of flesh cleave together, cast firm on him; he cannot be moved. 24 His heart is cast hard as a stone, even cast hard as a piece of riding millstone. 25 The mighty are afraid from his arising; from the crashings they miss the way. 26 The sword overtakes him, but will not hold firm, nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin. 27 He counts iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood. 28 A son of a bow cannot make him flee; slingstones are turned to stubble by him; 29 darts are counted as straw; he laughs at the shaking of a javelin. 30 Points of potsherds are under him; he spreads sharp marks on the mire. 31 He makes the deep boil like a pot; he makes the sea like a pot of ointment; 32 he makes a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be grayheaded. 33 There is nothing like him on earth, one made without fear. 34 He beholds all high things; he is king over all the sons of pride.