| | 1 | "Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook? Or press down his tongue with a cord?
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| | 2 | Can you put a rope into his nose? Or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
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| | 3 | Will he make many petitions to you? Or will he speak soft words to you?
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| | 4 | Will he make a covenant with you, That you should take him for a servant forever?
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| | 5 | Will you play with him as with a bird? Or will you bind him for your girls?
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| | 6 | Will traders barter for him? Will they part him among the merchants?
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| | 7 | Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, Or his head with fish-spears?
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| | 8 | Lay your hand on him. Remember the battle, and do so no more.
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| | 9 | Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Will not one be cast down even at the sight of him?
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| | 10 | None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?
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| | 11 | Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Everything under the heavens is mine.
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| | 12 | "I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, Nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.
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| | 13 | Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?
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| | 14 | Who can open the doors of his face? Around his teeth is terror.
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| | 15 | Strong scales are his pride, Shut up together with a close seal.
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| | 16 | One is so near to another, That no air can come between them.
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| | 17 | They are joined one to another; They stick together, so that they can't be pulled apart.
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| | 18 | His sneezing flashes forth light, His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
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| | 19 | Out of his mouth go burning torches, Sparks of fire leap forth.
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| | 20 | Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, As of a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.
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| | 21 | His breath kindles coals. A flame goes forth from his mouth.
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| | 22 | In his neck there is strength. Terror dances before him.
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| | 23 | The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm on him. They can't be moved.
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| | 24 | His heart is as firm as a stone, Yes, firm as the lower millstone.
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| | 25 | When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. They retreat before his thrashing.
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| | 26 | If one lay at him with the sword, it can't avail; Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
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| | 27 | He counts iron as straw; And brass as rotten wood.
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| | 28 | The arrow can't make him flee. Sling stones are like chaff to him.
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| | 29 | Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
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| | 30 | His undersides are like sharp potsherds, Leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.
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| | 31 | He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
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| | 32 | He makes a path to shine after him. One would think the deep had white hair.
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| | 33 | On earth there is not his equal, That is made without fear.
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| | 34 | He sees everything that is high: He is king over all the sons of pride."
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