or press down his tongue with a cord?
or pierce his jaw through with a hook?
or will he speak soft words to you?
that you should take him for a servant forever?
Or will you bind him for your girls?
Will they divide him up among the merchants?
or his head with fish spears?
Remember the battle, and do so no more.
Won’t one be laid low even at the sight of him?
Who then is he who can stand before me?
Everything under the heavens is mine.
nor his mighty strength, nor the beauty of his structure.
Who can come inside his jaws?
Around his teeth is terror.
shut up together with a close seal.
that no air can come between them.
They stick together so that they cannot be pulled apart.
His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
Sparks of fire leap forth.
as of a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.
A flame goes forth from his mouth.
Terror dances before him.
They are firm on him. They cannot be moved.
yes, firm as the lower millstone.
They retreat before his thrashing.
nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
and bronze as rotten wood.
Sling stones are like chaff to him.
He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.
leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.
He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
One would think the deep had white hair.
that is made without fear.
He is king over all the sons of pride.”