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YOUNG'S LITERAL TRANSLATION
41:1 Dost thou draw leviathan with an angle? And with a rope thou lettest down -- his tongue?
41:2 Dost thou put a reed in his nose? And with a thorn pierce his jaw?
41:3 Doth he multiply unto thee supplications? Doth he speak unto thee tender things?
41:4 Doth he make a covenant with thee? Dost thou take him for a servant age-during?
41:5 Dost thou play with him as a bird? And dost thou bind him for thy damsels?
41:6 (Feast upon him do companions, They divide him among the merchants!)
41:7 Dost thou fill with barbed irons his skin? And with fish-spears his head?
41:8 Place on him thy hand, Remember the battle -- do not add!
41:9 Lo, the hope of him is found a liar, Also at his appearance is not one cast down?
41:10 None so fierce that he doth awake him, And who `is' he before Me stationeth himself?
41:11 Who hath brought before Me and I repay? Under the whole heavens it `is' mine.
41:12 I do not keep silent concerning his parts, And the matter of might, And the grace of his arrangement.
41:13 Who hath uncovered the face of his clothing? Within his double bridle who doth enter?
41:14 The doors of his face who hath opened? Round about his teeth `are' terrible.
41:15 A pride -- strong ones of shields, Shut up -- a close seal.
41:16 One unto another they draw nigh, And air doth not enter between them.
41:17 One unto another they adhere, They stick together and are not separated.
41:18 His sneezings cause light to shine, And his eyes `are' as the eyelids of the dawn.
41:19 Out of his mouth do flames go, sparks of fire escape.
41:20 Out of his nostrils goeth forth smoke, As a blown pot and reeds.
41:21 His breath setteth coals on fire, And a flame from his mouth goeth forth.
41:22 In his neck lodge doth strength, And before him doth grief exult.
41:23 The flakes of his flesh have adhered -- Firm upon him -- it is not moved.
41:24 His heart `is' firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the lower piece.
41:25 From his rising are the mighty afraid, From breakings they keep themselves free.
41:26 The sword of his overtaker standeth not, Spear -- dart -- and lance.
41:27 He reckoneth iron as straw, brass as rotten wood.
41:28 The son of the bow doth not cause him to flee, Turned by him into stubble are stones of the sling.
41:29 As stubble have darts been reckoned, And he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin.
41:30 Under him `are' sharp points of clay, He spreadeth gold on the mire.
41:31 He causeth to boil as a pot the deep, The sea he maketh as a pot of ointment.
41:32 After him he causeth a path to shine, One thinketh the deep to be hoary.
41:33 There is not on the earth his like, That is made without terror.
41:34 Every high thing he doth see, He `is' king over all sons of pride.
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