Jó 41
Kan du trække Krokodillen op med Krog og binde dens Tunge med Snøre?
Kan du mon stikke et Siv i dens Snude, bore en Krog igennem dens Kæber?
Mon den vil trygle dig længe og give dig gode Ord?
Mon den vil indgå en Pagt med dig, så du får den til Træl for evigt?
Han du mon lege med den som en Fugl og tøjre den for dine Pigebørn?
Falbyder Fiskerlauget den og stykker den ud mellem Sælgerne?
Mon du kan spække dens Hud med Kroge og med Harpuner dens Hoved?
Læg dog engang din Hånd på den! Du vil huske den Kamp og gør det ej mer.
Det Håb vilde blive til Skamme, alene ved Synet lå du der.
Ingen drister sig til at tirre den, hvem holder Stand imod den?
Hvem møder den og slipper fra det hvem under hele Himlen?
Jeg tier ej om dens Lemmer, hvor stærk den er, hvor smukt den er skabt.
Hvem har trukket dens Klædning af, trængt ind i dens dobbelte Panser?
Hvem har åbnet dens Ansigts Døre? Rundt om dens Tænder er Rædsel.
Dens Ryg er Reder af Skjolde, dens Bryst er et Segl af Sten;
de sidder tæt ved hverandre, Luft kommer ikke ind derimellem;
de hænger fast ved hverandre, uadskilleligt griber de ind i hverandre.
Dens Nysen fremkalder strålende Lys, som Morgenrødens Øjenlåg er dens Øjne.
Ud af dens Gab farer Fakler, Ildgnister spruder der frem.
Em står ud af dens Næsebor som af en ophedet, kogende Kedel.
Dens Ånde tænder som glødende Kul, Luer står ud af dens Gab.
Styrken bor på dens Hals, og Angsten hopper foran den.
Tæt sidder Kødets Knuder, som støbt til Kroppen; de rokkes ikke;
fast som Sten er dens Hjerte støbt, fast som den nederste Møllesten.
Når den rejser sig, gyser Helte, fra Sans og Samling går de af Skræk.
Angriberens Sværd holder ikke Stand, ej Kastevåben, Spyd eller Pil.
Jern regner den kun for Halm og Kobber for trøsket Træ;
Buens Søn slår den ikke på Flugt, Slyngens Sten bliver Strå for den,
Stridskøllen regnes for Rør, den ler ad det svirrende Spyd.
På Bugen er der skarpe Rande, dens Spor i Dyndet er som Tærskeslædens;
Dybet får den i Kog som en Gryde, en Salvekedel gør den af Floden;
bag den er der en lysende Sti, Dybet synes som Sølverhår.
Dens Lige findes ikke på Jord, den er skabt til ikke at frygte.
Alt, hvad højt er, ræddes for den, den er Konge over alle stolte Dyr.
Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord {which} thou lettest down? {leviathan: probably an extinct animal of some kind} {which...: Heb. which thou drownest?}
Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn?
Will he make many supplications unto thee? will he speak soft {words} unto thee?
Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for ever?
Wilt thou play with him as {with} a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?
Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants?
Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears?
Lay thine hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more.
Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not {one} be cast down even at the sight of him?
None {is so} fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me?
Who hath prevented me, that I should repay {him? whatsoever is} under the whole heaven is mine.
I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion.
Who can discover the face of his garment? {or} who can come {to him} with his double bridle? {with: or, within}
Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth {are} terrible round about.
{His} scales {are his} pride, shut up together {as with} a close seal. {scales: Heb. strong pieces of shields}
One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.
They are joined one to another, they stick together, that they cannot be sundered.
By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes {are} like the eyelids of the morning.
Out of his mouth go burning lamps, {and} sparks of fire leap out.
Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as {out} of a seething pot or caldron.
His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.
In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. {is turned into joy: Heb. rejoiceth}
The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved. {flakes: Heb. fallings}
His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether {millstone}.
When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves.
The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. {habergeon: or, breastplate}
He esteemeth iron as straw, {and} brass as rotten wood.
The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.
Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.
Sharp stones {are} under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire. {Sharp stones: Heb. Sharp pieces of potsherd}
He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.
He maketh a path to shine after him; {one} would think the deep {to be} hoary.
Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear. {is made without fear: or, behave themselves without fear}
He beholdeth all high {things}: he {is} a king over all the children of pride.