Job

39 Knowest thou the season when the Wild Goats of the crags beget? The bringing forth of the hinds canst thou observe?

2 Canst thou count the months they fulfil? Or knowest thou the time when they give birth?

3 They kneel down, their young they bring forth; Their pains they throw off;

4 Their young become strong, they grow up in the open field, They go out and return not unto them.

5 Who hath sent forth the Wild Ass free? And the bands of the swift-runner who hath loosed?

6 Whose house I have made the waste plain, And his dwellings the land of salt:

7 He laugheth at the throng of the city, The shoutings of the driver he heareth not;

8 He espieth the mountains, his pasture-ground, And after every green thing maketh search.

9 Will the Wild-Ox be pleased to be thy servant? Or lodge for the night by thy crib?

10 Canst thou bind the wild-ox so that—with the ridge—shall run his cord? Or will he harrow the furrows after thee?

11 Wilt thou trust in him because of the greatness of his strength? Wilt thou leave unto him thy toil?

12 Wilt thou put faith in him that he will bring back thy seed? And that corn for thy threshing-floor he will gather?

13 The wing of the Ostrich that waveth itself joyfully Is it the pinion of lovingkindness or the plumage?

14 For she leaveth—to the earth—her eggs, And on the dust she letteth them be warmed;

15 And hath forgotten that a foot may crush them,—Or the wild beast tread on them!

16 Dealing hardly with her young, as none-of-hers, In vain her labour, without dread.

17 For God hath suffered her to forget wisdom, And given her no share in understanding.

18 What time on high she vibrateth her wings She laugheth at the horse and his rider.

19 Couldst thou give—to the Horse—strength? Couldst thou clothe his neck with the quivering mane?

20 Couldst thou cause him to leap like a locust? The majesty of his snort is a terror!

21 He diggeth into the plain and rejoiceth in vigour, He goeth forth to meet armour;

22 He laugheth at dread and is not dismayed, Neither turneth he back from the face of the sword;

23 Against him whiz [the arrows of] the quiver, The flashing head of spear and javelin;

24 With stamping and rage he drinketh up the ground,—He will not stand still when the horn soundeth;

25 As oft as the horn soundeth he saith, Aha! And from afar he scenteth the battle,—The thunder of commanders and the war-cry.

26 Is it by thine understanding that the Bird of Passage betaketh him to his pinions? Spreadeth out his wings to the south?

27 Or at thy bidding that the Eagle mounteth, And that he setteth on high his nest?

28 The crag he inhabiteth and so lodgeth himself, On the tooth of the crag and high fort;

29 From thence he searcheth out food, Far away his eyes do pierce;

30 And his young brood suck up blood, And where the slain are there is he.