Job 41:1-34 CEB

[1] Can you draw out Leviathan with a hook, restrain his tongue with a rope? [2] Can you put a cord through his nose, pierce his jaw with a barb? [3] Will he beg you at length or speak gentle words to you? [4] Will he make a pact with you so that you will take him as a permanent slave? [5] Can you play with him like a bird, put a leash on him for your girls? [6] Will merchants sell him; will they divide him among traders? [7] Can you fill his hide with darts, his head with a fishing spear? [8] Should you lay your hand on him, you would never remember the battle. [9] Such hopes would be delusional; surely the sight of him makes one stumble. [10] Nobody is fierce enough to rouse him; who then can stand before me? [11] Who opposes me that I must repay? Everything under heaven is mine. [12] I’m not awed by his limbs, his strength, and impressive form. [13] Who can remove his outer garment; who can come with a bridle for him? [14] Who can open the doors of his mouth, surrounded by frightening teeth? [15] His matching scales are his pride, closely locked and sealed. [16] One touches another; even air can’t come between them. [17] Each clings to its pair; joined, they can’t be separated. [18] His sneezes emit flashes of light; his eyes are like dawn’s rays. [19] Shafts of fire shoot from his mouth; like fiery sparks they fly out. [20] Smoke pours from his nostrils like a boiling pot over reeds. [21] His breath lights coals; a flame shoots from his mouth. [22] Power resides in his neck; violence dances before him. [23] The folds of his flesh stick together; on him they are tough and unyielding. [24] His heart is solid like a rock, hard like a lower millstone. [25] The divine beings dread his rising; they withdraw before his thrashing. [26] The sword that touches him won’t prevail; neither will the dart, spear, nor javelin. [27] He treats iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood. [28] Arrows can’t make him flee; slingstones he turns to straw. [29] He treats a club like straw; he laughs at the lance’s rattle. [30] His abdomen is like jagged pottery shards; its sharp edges leave a trail in the mud. [31] He causes the depths to churn like a boiling pot, stirs up the sea like a pot of scented oils, [32] leaves a bright wake behind him; the frothy deep seems white-haired. [33] None on earth can compare to him; he is made to be without fear. [34] He looks on all the proud; he is king over all proud beasts.