Job 41 – Christian Standard Bible (CSB)

Can you pull in Leviathan with a hook

or tie his tongue down with a rope?

Can you put a cord[fn] through his nose

or pierce his jaw with a hook?

Will he beg you for mercy

or speak softly to you?

Will he make a covenant with you

so that you can take him as a slave forever?

Can you play with him like a bird

or put him on a leash[fn] for your girls?

Will traders bargain for him

or divide him among the merchants?

Can you fill his hide with harpoons

or his head with fishing spears?

Lay a[fn] hand on him.

You will remember the battle

and never repeat it!

Any hope of capturing him proves false.

Does a person not collapse at the very sight of him?

No one is ferocious enough to rouse Leviathan;

who then can stand against me?

Who confronted me, that I should repay him?

Everything under heaven belongs to me.

I cannot be silent about his limbs,

his power, and his graceful proportions.

Who can strip off his outer covering?

Who can penetrate his double layer of armor?[fn]

Who can open his jaws,[fn]

surrounded by those terrifying teeth?

His pride is in his rows of scales,

closely sealed together.

One scale is so close to another[fn]

that no air can pass between them.

They are joined to one another,

so closely connected[fn] they cannot be separated.

His snorting[fn] flashes with light,

while his eyes are like the rays[fn] of dawn.

Flaming torches shoot from his mouth;

fiery sparks fly out!

Smoke billows from his nostrils

as from a boiling pot or burning reeds.

His breath sets coals ablaze,

and flames pour out of his mouth.

Strength resides in his neck,

and dismay dances before him.

The folds of his flesh are joined together,

solid as metal[fn] and immovable.

His heart is as hard as a rock,

as hard as a lower millstone!

When Leviathan rises, the mighty[fn] are terrified;

they withdraw because of his thrashing.

The sword that reaches him will have no effect,

nor will a spear, dart, or arrow.

He regards iron as straw,

and bronze as rotten wood.

No arrow can make him flee;

slingstones become like stubble to him.

A club is regarded as stubble,

and he laughs at the sound of a javelin.

His undersides are jagged potsherds,

spreading the mud like a threshing sledge.

He makes the depths seethe like a cauldron;

he makes the sea like an ointment jar.

He leaves a shining wake behind him;[fn]

one would think the deep had gray hair!

He has no equal on earth —

a creature devoid of fear!

He surveys everything that is haughty;

he is king over all the proud beasts.[fn]