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ULT JOB Chapter 41

JOB 41 ©

41Will you draw out Leviathan with a hook?

Or will you tie its tongue with a rope?

2Will you put a rope into its nose,

or will you pierce its jaw with a hook?

3Will it multiply supplications to you?

If it will speak tender things to you?

4Will it cut a covenant with you?

Will you take it for a servant forever?

5Will you play with it as with a bird?

Or will you tie it for your girls?

6Will partners bargain over it?

Will they divide it among merchants?

7Can you fill its hide with harpoons

or its head with spears of fish?

8Put your hand on it;

remember the battle; do not continue!

9Behold, his hope is deceived;

is one not cast down even at its appearance?

10One is not fierce, that he will awaken it.

Then who is he who will stand to my face?

11Who has anticipated me and I shall repay?

Beneath all of the skies, it is to me.

12I will not keep silent about its limbs

or the matter of its strengths or the beauty of its form.

13Who has removed the face of its clothing?

Into the double of its bridle, who has entered?

14The doors of its face, who has opened?

Around its teeth is terror!

15Rows of shields are its pride,

shut together with a tight seal.

16One with one, they are close,

and air does not come between them.

17A man with his brother, they are joined together;

they clasp themselves and they do not separate themselves.

18Light flashes from its snortings,

and its eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.

19Flames come from its mouth;

sparks of fire leap out!

20From its nostrils goes smoke

like a blown pot and a reed.

21Its breath kindles coals,

and a flame goes out from its mouth.

22Strength lodges in its neck,

and fear leaps up to its face.

23The folds of its flesh join together;

they are firm on it, they will not be moved.

24Its heart is hard like stone;

yes, it is hard like a lower millstone.

25At its rising, the mighty fear;

from its thrashings, they withdraw.

26The sword reaching it does not stand;

the spear, the dart, the javelin.

27It regards iron as straw,

bronze as rotten wood.

28The son of the bow does not make it flee;

with it, the stones of the sling are turned into chaff.

29Clubs are regarded as chaff,

and it laughs at the rattling of a spear.

30Beneath it are points of a shard;

it spreads like a threshing sledge upon the mud.

31It makes the deep boil like a pot;

it makes the sea like an ointment pot.

32It makes a path shine behind it;

one considers the deep to be white-haired.

33Upon the dust there is not its equal,

the one made without fear.

34It sees all of the high;

it is king over all of the sons of pride.”

JOB 41 ©

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