Job 41

ECB(i) 1 You - draw you leviathan with a hook? Drown his tongue with a cord? 2 Set a rush into his nostrils? Bore his jaw through with a thorn? 3 Abounds he with supplications to you? Words he tenderly to you? 4 Cuts he a covenant with you? You - take you him for a servant eternally? 5 Laugh with him as with a bird? Bind him for your lasses? 6 Do his companions market him? - halve him among the merchants? 7 - fill his skin with barbs? or his head with fish harpoons? 8 Set your palm on him; remember the war; add not. 9 Behold, his hope lies. Is no one cast down at his visage? 10 None is so fierce that he wakens him. Who then sets at my face? 11 Who anticipates me, that I shalam him? whatever is under the whole heavens is mine. 12 I neither hush as to his veins, nor to the word of his might, nor to the beauty of his proportion. 13 Who exposes the face of his robe? Who comes to him with his double bridle? 14 Who opens the doors of his face? His teeth are a terror all around; 15 his strong shields are his pomp - shut up as a constricted seal. 16 One approaches one so that no wind/spirit comes between them; 17 they adhere man to brother; they stick together - not to be separated. 18 By his sneezings a light halals and his eyes are as the eyelids of the dawn; 19 from his mouth go flambeaus and sparks of fire escape; 20 from his nostrils comes smoke as from a pressure cooker or rush; 21 his soul inflames coals and a flame comes from his mouth; 22 strength stays in his neck and languish leaps at his face; 23 the flakes of his flesh adhere - firmed in themselves not to totter; 24 his heart is firmed as a stone; yes, firmed as a slice of the nether. 25 He swells; the mighty dodge him; they purify themselves from breakings; 26 the sword of him who overtakes raises neither the spear, the arrow, nor the habergeon. 27 He fabricates iron as straw and copper as rotten timber; 28 he flees not the son of the bow; he turns slingstones into stubble; 29 he fabricates clubs as stubble; he laughs at the quaking of a dart; 30 pieces of potsherd are under him; he spreads ore on the mire; 31 he sets the deep to boil as a caldron; he makes the sea as a spicy broth; 32 he makes a path to enlighten after him; he fabricates the abyss to be greyed. 33 On the dust there is none like him who is worked without terror; 34 he sees all the heights; he is sovereign over all the sons of pride.