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Job 41
1 Any hopes you might have would prove vain, for the mere sight of him would stagger you.
2 When roused, he grows ferocious, no one can face him in a fight.
3 Who can attack him with impunity? No one beneath all heaven.
4 Next I will talk of his limbs and describe his matchless strength.
5 Who can unloose the front of his coat or pierce the double armour of his breastplate?
6 Who dare open the gates of his mouth? Terror dwells in those rows of teeth!
7 His back is like rows of shields, sealed with a seal of stone,
8 touching each other so close that not a breath could pass between;
9 sticking to one another to make an indivisible whole.
10 When he sneezes, light leaps forth, his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.
11 From his mouth come fiery torches, sparks of fire fly out of it.
12 His nostrils belch smoke like a cauldron boiling on the fire.
13 His breath could kindle coals, so hot a flame issues from his mouth.
14 Strength has made a home in his neck, fear leaps before him as he goes.
17 When he stands up, the waves themselves take fright, the billows of the sea retreat.
15 The folds of his flesh stick together, firmly set in it, immovable.
16 His heart is as hard as rock unyielding as a millstone.
18 Sword may strike him, but cannot pierce him; no more can spear, javelin or lance.
19 Iron means no more to him than straw, nor bronze than rotten wood.
20 The arrow does not make him run, sling stones he treats as wisps of hay.
21 A club strikes him like a reed, he laughs at the whirring javelin.
22 He has sharp potsherds underneath, and moves across the slime like a harrow.
23 He churns the depths into a seething cauldron, he makes the sea fume like a scent burner.
24 Behind him he leaves a glittering wake-a white fleece seems to float on the deeps.
25 He has no equal on earth, being created without fear.
26 He looks the haughtiest in the eye; of all the sons of pride he is the king.