Job 39 :: Christian Standard Bible (CSB)

Do you know when mountain goats give birth?

Have you watched the deer in labor?

Can you count the months they are pregnant

so you can know the time they give birth?

They crouch down to give birth to their young;

they deliver their newborn.

Their offspring are healthy and grow up in the open field.

They leave and do not return.

Who set the wild donkey free?

Who released the swift donkey from its harness?

I made the desert its home,

and the salty wasteland its dwelling.

It scoffs at the noise of the village

and never hears the shouts of a driver.

It roams the mountains for its pastureland,

searching for anything green.

Would the wild ox be willing to serve you?

Would it spend the night by your feeding trough?

Can you hold the wild ox to a furrow by its harness?

Will it plow the valleys behind you?

Can you depend on it because its strength is great?

Would you leave it to do your hard work?

Can you trust the wild ox to harvest your grain

and bring it to your threshing floor?

The wings of the ostrich flap joyfully,

but are her feathers and plumage like the stork’s?

She abandons her eggs on the ground

and lets them be warmed in the sand.

She forgets that a foot may crush them

or that some wild animal may trample them.

She treats her young harshly, as if they were not her own,

with no fear that her labor may have been in vain.

For God has deprived her of wisdom;

he has not endowed her with understanding.

When she proudly spreads her wings,

she laughs at the horse and its rider.

Do you give strength to the horse?

Do you adorn his neck with a mane?

Do you make him leap like a locust?

His proud snorting fills one with terror.

He paws in the valley and rejoices in his strength;

he charges into battle.

He laughs at fear, since he is afraid of nothing;

he does not run from the sword.

A quiver rattles at his side,

along with a flashing spear and a javelin.

He charges ahead with trembling rage;

he cannot stand still at the trumpet’s sound.

When the trumpet blasts, he snorts defiantly.

He smells the battle from a distance;

he hears the officers’ shouts and the battle cry.

Does the hawk take flight by your understanding

and spread its wings to the south?

Does the eagle soar at your command

and make its nest on high?

It lives on a cliff where it spends the night;

its stronghold is on a rocky crag.

From there it searches for prey;

its eyes penetrate the distance.

Its brood gulps down blood,

and where the slain are, it is there.