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JOB C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41 C42
41 Canst thou draw out the crocodile with hook,
Or press his tongue down with a cord?
2 Canst thou put a rope into his nose,
Or pierce his jaws through with a hook?
3 Will he make many prayers unto thee,
Or will he speak softly to thee?
4 Will he make any tryst with thee,
To be kept as thy servant for ever?
5 Wilt thou play with him as with a bird,
Or attach him to string for thy maidens?
6 Shall the (fisher) guilds traffic in him?
Shall the merchants divide him in pieces?
7 Canst thou fill his skin with barbs,
Or his head with the fish-harpon?
8 Lay but thine hand upon him:
Remember the battle – enough!
9 See! thy hope is but an illusion;
God hurleth the dread of him far.
10 Not one is so bold as to rouse him;
Where is he that can stand before him?
11 Who hath ever triumphantly braved him?
Beneath the whole heaven, not one.
12 Of his limbs I will not keep silence,
Of his strength and his mighty equipment.
13 Who can lay bare the face of his garment,
Or enter the folds of his breastplate?
14 Who can open the doors of his face?
Round about his teeth lieth terror.
15 His back is a ripple of shields,
And his breast is a seal of flint.
16 One shield is so near to another
That no air can come between them.
17 Each cleaveth so close to his fellow,
So locked, that they cannot be served.
18 Through the breath of his nostrils light flashes,
His eyes are the lids of the morning.
19 Out of his mouth go torches
And sparks of fire leap forth.
20 Smoke issues out of his nostrils,
Like a seething and boiling pot.
21 His breath setteth coals ablaze,
And a flame goeth forth from his mouth.
22 His neck is the home of strength,
And terror danceth before him.
23 The flakes of his flesh are welded
So firm that they cannot be moved.
24 His heart is as firm as a stone–
Yea, firm as the nether mill-stone.
25 When he lifts himself, strong men are terrified;
At his teeth are the mighty dismayed.
26 No sword availeth against him,
Nor spear nor dart nor arrow.
27 He counteth iron as straw,
And brass as rotten wood;
28 No arrow can put him to flight;
On him sling-stones are turned to stubble.
29 Clubs are counted as reed,
And he laughs at the whirr of a javelin.
30 Beneath him (his scales, like) sharp sherds
Spread marks, as of sledge, on the mire.
31 He makes the deep boil like a pot;
He stirreth the sea like ointment.
32 In his wake is a shinning path–
One would think the deep to be hoary.
33 There is not his like upon earth,
Created to know no fear.
34 Everything that is high is afraid of him:
He is king o’er the sons of pride.
JOB C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41 C42