¹Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook, or make his tongue sink with a rope?

²Can you put a rush cord in his nose, or pierce his jaw with a hook?

³Will he multiply pleas to you, or speak soft words to you?

⁴Will he cut a covenant with you? Will you take him as a slave forever?

⁵Will you play with him like a bird, or bind him for your girls?

⁶Will partners trade over him? Will they divide him among merchants?

⁷Can you fill his skin with barbs, and his head with a fish harpoon?

⁸Lay your palm on him; remember the battle, and do not do it again.

⁹Behold, his hope is proved false; even at the sight of him one is hurled down.

¹⁰None is so fierce that he would rouse it; and who is he that can take his stand before my face?

¹¹Who has come before me, that I should repay? Whatever is under all the skies is mine.

¹²I will not keep silent about him, his idle talk, the matter of his strength, and the grace of his arrangement.

¹³Who has uncovered the face of his garment? Who would come into the doubling of his bridle?

¹⁴Who has opened the doors of his face? Around his teeth is dread.

¹⁵His pride is channels of shields, shut up with a tight seal.

¹⁶One draws near to the next, and no breath comes between them.

¹⁷A man clings to his brother; they grasp one another and are not separated.

¹⁸His sneezings shine out light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.

¹⁹From his mouth torches go; sparks of fire slip away.

²⁰From his nostrils smoke goes forth, like a pot blown upon, and rushes.

²¹His being sets coals ablaze, and a flame goes out from his mouth.

²²In his neck strength lodges, and before his face dismay leaps.

²³The hanging parts of his flesh cling; they are cast hard upon him, not to be moved.

²⁴His heart is cast hard like a stone, cast hard like the lower millstone.

²⁵At his uprising the mighty are afraid; at the crashing they are bewildered.

²⁶The sword of one who reaches him does not stand, nor spear, missile, or javelin.

²⁷He reckons iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood.

²⁸The son of the bow does not make him flee; to him the stones of the sling are turned into chaff.

²⁹A club is reckoned as chaff, and he laughs at the shaking of a javelin.

³⁰Under him are sharp points of potsherd; he spreads a threshing-sledge upon the mud.

³¹He makes the depth boil like a pot; he makes the sea like an ointment-pot.

³²Behind him he makes a path shine; one would reckon the deep to be grey-haired.

³³There is none on the dust like him, the one made without dread.

³⁴He sees all that is high; he is king over all the sons of pride.