Can thou draw out leviathan with a fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord?

Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Under the whole heaven is mine.

His sneezings flash forth light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.

Can thou put a rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw through with a hook?

[His] strong scales are [his] pride, shut up together [like] a close seal.

His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes forth from his mouth.

He beholds everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride.

His heart is as firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the nether millstone.

When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid. Because of consternation they are beside themselves.

Can thou fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish-spears?

If a man lays at him with the sword it cannot avail, nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.

None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?

Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, as of a boiling pot and [burning] rushes.

The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm upon him. They cannot be moved.

I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.

Out of his mouth go burning torches, and sparks of fire leap forth.

Will the bands make traffic of him? Will they part him among the merchants?

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

Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Will not [a man] be cast down even at the sight of him?

Who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror.

Will he make a covenant with thee, that thou should take him for a servant forever?

In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him.

They are joined one to another. They stick together, so that they cannot be parted.

Will thou play with him as with a bird? Or will thou bind him for thy maidens?

Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?

Will he make many supplications to thee? Or will he speak soft words to thee?

Lay thy hand upon him. Remember the battle, and do so no more.

Upon earth there is not his like who is made without fear.

The arrow cannot make him flee. Sling-stones are turned into stubble with him.

His underparts are [like] sharp potsherds. He spreads out [as] a threshing-wagon upon the mire.

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

Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.

He makes a path to shine after him. [A man] would think the deep to be hoary.

He counts iron as straw, [and] brass as rotten wood.