Job 41 глава

Job
English Standard Version → Елизаветинская Библия

a “Can you draw out Leviathanb with a fishhook or press down his tongue with a cord?

Не ви́дѣлъ ли є҆сѝ є҆го̀, и҆ глаго́лємымъ не ѹ҆диви́лсѧ ли є҆сѝ;

Can you put a rope in his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook?

Не ѹ҆боѧ́лсѧ ли є҆сѝ, ѩ҆́кѡ ѹ҆гото́васѧ мѝ; Кто́ бо є҆́сть противлѧ́ѧйсѧ мнѣ̀, и҆лѝ кто̀ противоста́нетъ мѝ и҆ стерпи́тъ,

Will he make many pleas to you? Will he speak to you soft words?

а҆́ще всѧ̀ поднебе́снаѧ моѧ̀ є҆́сть;

Will he make a covenant with you to take him for your servant forever?

Не ѹ҆молчѹ̀ є҆гѡ̀ ра́ди и҆ сло́вомъ си́лы поми́лѹю ра́внаго є҆мѹ̀.

Will you play with him as with a bird, or will you put him on a leash for your girls?

Кто̀ ѿкры́етъ лицѐ ѡ҆блече́нїѧ є҆гѡ̀, въ согбе́нїе же пе́рсей є҆гѡ̀ кто̀ вни́детъ;

Will traders bargain over him? Will they divide him up among the merchants?

Двє́ри лица̀ є҆гѡ̀ кто̀ ѿве́рзетъ; ѡ҆́крестъ зѹбѡ́въ є҆гѡ̀ стра́хъ,

Can you fill his skin with harpoons or his head with fishing spears?

ѹ҆тро́ба є҆гѡ̀ щиты̀ мѣ҄дѧны, сою́зъ же є҆гѡ̀ ѩ҆́коже смѷрі́тъ ка́мень,

Lay your hands on him; remember the battle — you will not do it again!

є҆ди́нъ ко дрѹго́мѹ прилипа́ютъ, дѹ́хъ же не про́йдетъ є҆гѡ̀:

c Behold, the hope of a man is false; he is laid low even at the sight of him.

ѩ҆́кѡ мѹ́жъ бра́тѹ своемѹ̀ прилѣпи́тсѧ, содержа́тсѧ и҆ не ѿто́ргнѹтсѧ.

No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?

Въ чха́нїи є҆гѡ̀ возблиста́етъ свѣ́тъ: ѻ҆́чи же є҆гѡ̀ видѣ́нїе денни́цы.

Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.

И҆з̾ ѹ҆́стъ є҆гѡ̀ и҆схо́дѧтъ а҆́ки свѣщы̀ горѧ́щыѧ, и҆ разме́щѹтсѧ а҆́ки и҆́скры ѻ҆́гнєнныѧ:

“I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, or his mighty strength, or his goodly frame.

и҆з̾ ноздре́й є҆гѡ̀ и҆схо́дитъ ды́мъ пе́щи горѧ́щїѧ ѻ҆гне́мъ ѹ҆́глїѧ:

Who can strip off his outer garment? Who would come near him with a bridle?

дѹша́ же є҆гѡ̀ ѩ҆́кѡ ѹ҆́глїе, и҆ ѩ҆́кѡ пла́мы и҆з̾ ѩ҆́стъ є҆гѡ̀ и҆схо́дитъ..

Who can open the doors of his face? Around his teeth is terror.

На вы́и же є҆гѡ̀ водворѧ́етсѧ си́ла, пред̾ ни́мъ тече́тъ па́гѹба.

His back is made ofd rows of shields, shut up closely as with a seal.

Плѡ́ти же тѣлесѐ є҆гѡ̀ сольпнѹ́шасѧ: лїе́тъ на́нь, и҆ не подви́житсѧ.

One is so near to another that no air can come between them.

Се́рдце є҆гѡ̀ ѡ҆жестѣ̀ а҆́ки ка́мень, стои́тъ же а҆́ки на́ковальнѧ неподви́жна.

They are joined one to another; they clasp each other and cannot be separated.

Ѡ҆бра́щшѹсѧ же є҆мѹ̀, стра́хъ ѕвѣрє́мъ четверонѡ́гимъ по землѝ ска́чѹщымъ.

His sneezings flash forth light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn.

А҆́ще срѧ́щѹтъ є҆го̀ ко́пїѧ, ничто́же сотворѧ́тъ є҆мѹ̀, копїѐ вонзе́но и҆ бронѧ̀:

Out of his mouth go flaming torches; sparks of fire leap forth.

вмѣнѧ́етъ бо желѣ́зо а҆́ки плє́вы, мѣ́дь же а҆́ки дре́во гни́ло:

Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke, as from a boiling pot and burning rushes.

не ѹ҆ѧзви́тъ є҆го̀ лѹ́къ мѣ́дѧнъ, мни́тъ бо каменоме́тнѹю пра́щѹ а҆́ки сѣ́но:

His breath kindles coals, and a flame comes forth from his mouth.

а҆́ки сте́блїе вмѣни́шасѧ є҆мѹ̀ мла́тове, рѹга́етжесѧ трѹ́сѹ ѻ҆гнено́сномѹ.

In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him.

Ло́же є҆гѡ̀ ѻ҆стнѝ ѻ҆́стрїи, всѧ́ко же зла́то морско́е под̾ ни́мъ, ѩ҆́коже бре́нїе безчи́сленно.

The folds of his flesh stick together, firmly cast on him and immovable.

Возжиза́етъ бе́зднѹ, ѩ҆́коже пе́щь мѣ́дѧнѹ: мни́тъ же мо́ре ѩ҆́кѡ мѷрова́рницѹ

His heart is hard as a stone, hard as the lower millstone.

и҆ та́ртаръ бе́здны ѩ҆́коже плѣ́нника: вмѣни́лъ бе́зднѹ въ прохожде́нїе.

When he raises himself up, the mightye are afraid; at the crashing they are beside themselves.

Ничто́же є҆́сть на землѝ подо́бно є҆мѹ̀ сотворе́но, порѹ́гано бы́ти а҆́гг҃лы мои́ми:

Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail, nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin.

всѐ высо́кое зри́тъ: са́мъ же ца́рь всѣ҄мъ сѹ́щымъ въ вода́хъ.

He counts iron as straw, and bronze as rotten wood.

The arrow cannot make him flee; for him, sling stones are turned to stubble.

Clubs are counted as stubble; he laughs at the rattle of javelins.

His underparts are like sharp potsherds; he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire.

He makes the deep boil like a pot; he makes the sea like a pot of ointment.

Behind him he leaves a shining wake; one would think the deep to be white-haired.

On earth there is not his like, a creature without fear.

He sees everything that is high; he is king over all the sons of pride.”

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