Do you observe the calving of the
Or do you know the time they give birth?
They get rid of their labor pains.
They leave and do not return to them.
And who loosed the bonds of the swift donkey,
And the salt land for his dwelling place?
The shoutings of the driver he does not hear.
And searches after every green thing.
Or will he spend the night at your manger?
Or will he harrow the valleys after you?
And leave your labor to him?
And gather it from your threshing floor?
With the pinion and plumage of
And warms them in the dust,
Or that a wild beast may trample
Though her labor be in vain, she is
And has not given her a share of understanding.
She laughs at the horse and his rider.
Do you clothe his neck with a mane?
And he does not turn back from the sword.
The flashing spear and javelin.
And he does not stand still at the voice of the trumpet.
And he scents the battle from afar,
And the thunder of the captains and the war cry.
Stretching his wings toward the south?
Upon the rocky crag, an inaccessible place.
His eyes see it from afar.