Job Chapter 41 / YLT

Young's Literal Translation
Job, Chapter 41

   1: Dost thou draw leviathan with an angle? And with a rope thou lettest down -- his tongue?
   2: Dost thou put a reed in his nose? And with a thorn pierce his jaw?
   3: Doth he multiply unto thee supplications? Doth he speak unto thee tender things?
   4: Doth he make a covenant with thee? Dost thou take him for a servant age-during?
   5: Dost thou play with him as a bird? And dost thou bind him for thy damsels?
   6: (Feast upon him do companions, They divide him among the merchants!)
   7: Dost thou fill with barbed irons his skin? And with fish-spears his head?
   8: Place on him thy hand, Remember the battle -- do not add!
   9: Lo, the hope of him is found a liar, Also at his appearance is not one cast down?
   10: None so fierce that he doth awake him, And who [is] he before Me stationeth himself?
   11: Who hath brought before Me and I repay? Under the whole heavens it [is] mine.
   12: I do not keep silent concerning his parts, And the matter of might, And the grace of his arrangement.
   13: Who hath uncovered the face of his clothing? Within his double bridle who doth enter?
   14: The doors of his face who hath opened? Round about his teeth [are] terrible.
   15: A pride -- strong ones of shields, Shut up -- a close seal.
   16: One unto another they draw nigh, And air doth not enter between them.
   17: One unto another they adhere, They stick together and are not separated.
   18: His sneezings cause light to shine, And his eyes [are] as the eyelids of the dawn.
   19: Out of his mouth do flames go, sparks of fire escape.
   20: Out of his nostrils goeth forth smoke, As a blown pot and reeds.
   21: His breath setteth coals on fire, And a flame from his mouth goeth forth.
   22: In his neck lodge doth strength, And before him doth grief exult.
   23: The flakes of his flesh have adhered -- Firm upon him -- it is not moved.
   24: His heart [is] firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the lower piece.
   25: From his rising are the mighty afraid, From breakings they keep themselves free.
   26: The sword of his overtaker standeth not, Spear -- dart -- and lance.
   27: He reckoneth iron as straw, brass as rotten wood.
   28: The son of the bow doth not cause him to flee, Turned by him into stubble are stones of the sling.
   29: As stubble have darts been reckoned, And he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin.
   30: Under him [are] sharp points of clay, He spreadeth gold on the mire.
   31: He causeth to boil as a pot the deep, The sea he maketh as a pot of ointment.
   32: After him he causeth a path to shine, One thinketh the deep to be hoary.
   33: There is not on the earth his like, That is made without terror.
   34: Every high thing he doth see, He [is] king over all sons of pride.

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