Job Chapter 39 |
1Do you know the season when the mountain goats give birth?
Can you mark the time when the hinds calve?
2Can you count the months they must complete?
Do you know the season they give birth,
3When they couch to bring forth their offspring,
To deliver their young?
4Their young are healthy; they grow up in the open;
They leave and return no more.
5Who sets the wild ass free?
Who loosens the bonds of the onager,
6Whose home I have made the wilderness,
The salt land his dwelling-place?
7He scoffs at the tumult of the city,
Does not hear the shouts of the driver.
8He roams the hills for his pasture;
He searches for any green thing.
9Would the wild ox agree to serve you?
Would he spend the night at your crib?
10Can you hold the wild ox by ropes to the furrow?
Would he plow up the valleys behind you?
11Would you rely on his great strength
And leave your toil to him?
12Would you trust him to bring in the seed
And gather it in from your threshing floor?
13The wing of the ostrich beats joyously;
Are her pinions and plumage like the stork’s?
14She leaves her eggs on the ground,
Letting them warm in the dirt,
15Forgetting they may be crushed underfoot,
Or trampled by a wild beast.
16Her young are cruelly abandoned as if they were not hers;
Her labor is in vain for lack of concern.
17For God deprived her of wisdom,
Gave her no share of understanding,
18Else she would soar on high,
Scoffing at the horse and its rider.
19Do you give the horse his strength?
Do you clothe his neck with a mane?
20Do you make him quiver like locusts,
His majestic snorting reading] terror?
21He paws with force, he runs with vigor,
Charging into battle.
22He scoffs at fear; he cannot be frightened;
He does not recoil from the sword.
23A quiverful of arrows whizzes by him,
And the flashing spear and the javelin.
24Trembling with excitement, he swallows the land;
He does not turn aside at the blast of the trumpet.
25As the trumpet sounds, he says, “Aha!”
From afar he smells the battle,
The roaring and shouting of the officers.
26Is it by your wisdom that the hawk grows pinions,
Spreads his wings to the south?
27Does the eagle soar at your command,
Building his nest high,
28Dwelling in the rock,
Lodging upon the fastness of a jutting rock?
29From there he spies out his food;
From afar his eyes see it.
30His young gulp blood;
Where the slain are, there is he.