[1] “Can you draw out Leviathan with a fish hook, or press down his tongue with a cord?
[2] Can you put a rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
[3] Will he make many petitions to you, or will he speak soft words to you?
[4] Will he make a covenant with you, that you should take him for a servant forever?
[5] Will you play with him as with a bird? Or will you bind him for your girls?
[6] Will traders barter for him? Will they part him among the merchants?
[7] Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish spears?
[8] Lay your hand on him. Remember the battle, and do so no more.
[9] Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Won’t one be cast down even at the sight of him?
[10] None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?
[11] Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Everything under the heavens is mine.
[12] “I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.
[13] Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?
[14] Who can open the doors of his face? Around his teeth is terror.
[15] Strong scales are his pride, shut up together with a close seal.
[16] One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.
[17] They are joined to one another. They stick together, so that they can’t be pulled apart.
[18] His sneezing flashes out light. His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
[19] Out of his mouth go burning torches. Sparks of fire leap out.
[20] Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, as of a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.
[21] His breath kindles coals. A flame goes out of his mouth.
[22] There is strength in his neck. Terror dances before him.
[23] The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm on him. They can’t be moved.
[24] His heart is as firm as a stone, yes, firm as the lower millstone.
[25] When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. They retreat before his thrashing.
[26] If one attacks him with the sword, it can’t prevail; nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
[27] He counts iron as straw; and brass as rotten wood.
[28] The arrow can’t make him flee. Sling stones are like chaff to him.
[29] Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
[30] His undersides are like sharp potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.
[31] He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
[32] He makes a path shine after him. One would think the deep had white hair.
[33] On earth there is not his equal, that is made without fear.
[34] He sees everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride.”