Will the wild ox be willing to serve you, or spend the night by your feed-trough?

The wing of the ostrich beats joyously; though not like the stork's pinions for flight.

Do you know the time when the wild goats of the rock bring forth? Can you observe the calving of deer?

Have you given the horse strength? Have you clothed his neck with a mane?

Does the eagle mount up at your command and make his nest on high?

Who has sent out the wild ass free? Or who has loosed the bands of the wild ass,

Can you tie the wild ox in the furrow with his rope? Or will he harrow the valleys for you?

Does the hawk soar by your understanding? Will he spread his wings toward the south?

And his young brood also sucks up blood; and where the dead are, there he is.

When the trumpet sounds, he says, Aha! And he smells the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.

For she leaves her eggs to the earth, and lets them warm in the dust,

to whom I have assigned the wilderness for its home, and the salt land for its dwellings?

The quiver rattles against him, the glittering spear and the shield.

He paws in the valley, and rejoices in his strength; he goes on to meet the weapons.

She treats her young roughly, as if not hers; for her labor is vanity without fear;

because God has caused her to forget wisdom, and He has not given her a share in understanding.

He swallows the ground with quivering and rage; and he does not stand still at the sound of the trumpet.

Will you trust him, that he will return your seed and gather it to your grain-floor?

Their young ones are strong, they multiply with grain; they go forth and do not return to them again.

Can you make him leap like a locust? The glory of his snorting is terrifying.

He mocks at fear, and is not terrified; and he does not turn back from the sword.

He lives and stays on the rock, on the crag of the rock and the strong place.

He seeks out mountains for his pasture, and he searches after every green thing.

At the time she lifts herself up on high, she scorns the horse and its rider.

He scorns the turmoil of the city; he does not hear the driver's shouts.

From there he seeks food, and his eyes see afar off.

Will you trust him because his strength is great? Or will you leave your labor to him?

and forgets that a foot may crush them, or that the beast of the field may break them.

when they bow down and bring forth; they send out their pangs.

Can you number the months that they fulfill? Or do you know the time for their bearing,