1Can you draw out leviathan with a fishhook? Or press down his tongue with a cord?
2Can you put a rope into his nose? Or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
3Will he make many supplications to you? Or will he speak soft words to you?
4Will he make a covenant with you, That you should take him for a servant forever?
5Will you play with him as with a bird? Or will you bind him for your young women?
6Will the bands of fishermen bargain over him? Will they divide him among the merchants?
7Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, Or his head with fish-spears?
8Lay your hand on him; Remember the battle, and do so no more.
9Behold, the hope of him is in vain: Will not one be cast down even at the sight of him?
10None is so fierce that he dares stir him up; Who then is he who can stand before me?
11Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.
12I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, Nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.
13Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?
14Who can open the doors of his face? All around his teeth is terror.
15His strong scales are his pride, Shut up together as with a close seal.
16One is so near to another, That no air can come between them.
17They are joined one to another; They stick together, so that they cannot be separated.
18His sneezings flash out light, And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
19Out of his mouth go burning torches, And sparks of fire leap out.
20Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, As of a boiling pot and burning rushes.
21His breath kindles coals, And a flame goes out from his mouth.
22In his neck abides strength, And terror dances before him.
23The folds of his flesh are joined together: They are firm on him; they cannot be moved.
24His heart is as firm as a stone; Indeed, firm as the lower millstone.
25When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid: By reason of consternation they are beside themselves.
26If one strikes at him with the sword, it cannot avail; Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
27He counts iron as straw, And bronze as rotten wood.
28The arrow cannot make him flee: Sling-stones are turned with him into stubble.
29Clubs are counted as stubble: He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
30His underparts are like sharp potsherds: He spreads as it were a threshing sledge on the mire.
31He makes the deep boil like a pot: He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
32He makes a path to shine after him; One would think the deep to be white-haired.
33On earth there is not his like, One made without fear.
34He beholds everything that is high: He is king over all the sons of pride.