Canst thou draw out leviathan with a hook or with the cord which thou lettest down on his tongue?

Who has preceded me, that I should repay him? All that is under the whole heaven is mine.

By his sneezings lights are lit, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

Canst thou put a hook into his nose or bore his jaw through with a thorn?

His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal.

His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes out of his mouth.

He despises all exalted things; he is king over all the sons of pride.

His heart is as firm as a stone; as hard as a piece of the lower millstone.

Of his greatness, the mighty are afraid; by reason of breakings they remove sin from themselves.

Canst thou cut his skin with knives or his head with a fish spear?

When one catches up to him, no sword or spear or dart or coat of mail shall endure against him.

No one is so bold as to dare stir him up; who then shall be able to stand before me?

Out of his nostrils goes forth smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron.

The failings of his flesh are joined together; his flesh is firm in him and does not move.

I will not conceal his lies, nor his might, nor the beauty of his order.

Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out.

Shall the companions make a banquet of him? Shall they part him among the merchants?

One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.

Behold, your hope regarding him shall fail; for even at the sight of him they shall faint.

Who shall open the doors of his face? The orders of his teeth are terrible.

Will he make a covenant with thee that thou shall take him for a slave for ever?

In his neck dwells strength, and before him the work is undone.

They are joined one to another; they stick together, that they cannot be separated.

Wilt thou play with him as with a bird, or wilt thou tie him up for thy maidens?

Who shall uncover the face of his garment? Or who shall come to him with a double bridle?

Will he make many supplications unto thee? Will he speak soft words unto thee?

Lay thine hand upon him; thou shalt remember the battle and do no more.

Upon earth there is not his like, who behaves without fear.

The arrow cannot make him flee; with him, slingstones are turned into stubble.

Broken clay vessels are under him; he carves his imprint upon the mire.

He makes the deep to boil like a pot; he makes the sea like a pot of ointment.

He counts any weapon as stubble; he laughs at the shaking of a spear.

He makes the path shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary.

He esteems iron as straw and bronze as rotten wood.