Job 41 (asv)
Or press down his tongue with a cord?
41:2Canst thou put a rope into his nose?
Or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
41:3Will he make many supplications unto thee?
Or will he speak soft words unto thee?
41:4Will he make a covenant with thee,
That thou shouldest take him for a servant for ever?
41:5Wilt thou play with him as with a bird?
Or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?
41:6Will the bands of fishermen make traffic of him?
Will they part him among the merchants?
41:7Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons,
Or his head with fish-spears?
41:8Lay thy hand upon him;
Remember the battle, and do so no more.
41:9Behold, the hope of him is in vain:
Will not one be cast down even at the sight of him?
41:10None is so fierce that he dare stir him up;
Who then is he that can stand before me?
41:11Who hath first given unto me, that I should repay him?
Whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine. \\ \\
41:12I will not keep silence concerning his limbs,
Nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.
Who shall come within his jaws?
41:14Who can open the doors of his face?
Round about his teeth is terror.
41:15His strong scales are his pride,
Shut up together as with a close seal.
41:16One is so near to another,
That no air can come between them.
41:17They are joined one to another;
They stick together, so that they cannot be sundered.
And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
41:19Out of his mouth go burning torches,
And sparks of fire leap forth.
41:20Out of his nostrils a smoke goeth,
As of a boiling pot and burning rushes.
41:21His breath kindleth coals,
And a flame goeth forth from his mouth.
And terror danceth before him.
41:23The flakes of his flesh are joined together:
They are firm upon him; they cannot be moved.
Yea, firm as the nether millstone.
41:25When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid:
By reason of consternation they are beside themselves.
41:26If one lay at him with the sword, it cannot avail;
Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
41:27He counteth iron as straw,
And brass as rotten wood.
41:28The arrow cannot make him flee:
Sling-stones are turned with him into stubble.
41:29Clubs are counted as stubble:
He laugheth at the rushing of the javelin.
41:30His underparts are like sharp potsherds:
He spreadeth as it were a threshing-wain upon the mire.
41:31He maketh the deep to boil like a pot:
41:32He maketh a path to shine after him;
One would think the deep to be hoary.
41:33Upon earth there is not his like,
That is made without fear.
41:34He beholdeth everything that is high: