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¹ Canst thou draw out leviathan with a fish hook? or press down his tongue with a cord?² Canst thou put a rope into his nose? or pierce his jaw through with a hook?³ Will he make many supplications unto thee? or will he speak soft words unto thee?⁴ Will he make a covenant with thee, that thou shouldest take him for a servant for ever?⁵ Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?⁶ Shall the bands of fishermen make traffic of him? shall they part him among the merchants?⁷ Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish spears?⁸ Lay thine hand upon him; remember the battle, and do so no more.⁹ Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not 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 that can stand before me?

¹¹ Who hath first given unto me, that I should repay him? whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine.¹² I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his comely proportion.¹³ Who can strip off his outer garment? who shall come within his double bridle?¹⁴ Who can open the doors of his face? round about his teeth is terror.¹⁵ His strong scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal.¹⁶ One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.¹⁷ They are joined one to another; they stick together, that they cannot be sundered.¹⁸ His neesings flash forth light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.¹⁹ Out of his mouth go burning torches, and sparks of fire leap forth.²⁰ Out of his nostrils a smoke goeth, as of a seething pot and burning rushes.²¹ His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth forth from his mouth.²² In his neck abideth strength, and terror danceth before him.²³ The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm upon him; they cannot be moved.²⁴ His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, firm as the nether millstone.²⁵ When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid: by reason of consternation they are beside themselves.²⁶ If one lay at him with the sword, it cannot avail; nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.²⁷ He counteth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood.²⁸ The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.²⁹ Clubs are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the rushing of the javelin.³⁰ His underparts are like sharp potsherds: he spreadeth as it were a threshing wain upon the mire.³¹ He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like ointment.³² He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary.³³ Upon earth there is not his like, that is made without fear.³⁴ He beholdeth every thing that is high: he is king over all the sons of pride.