20
Out of his nostrils a smoke goeth, As of a boiling pot and [burning] rushes.
21
His breath kindleth coals, And a flame goeth forth from his mouth.
22
In his neck abideth strength, And terror danceth before him.
23
The flakes of his flesh are joined together: They are firm upon him; They cannot be moved.
24
His heart is as firm as a stone; Yea, firm as the nether millstone.
25
When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid: By reason of consternation they are beside themselves.
26
If one lay at him with the sword, it cannot avail; Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
27
He counteth iron as straw, [And] brass as rotten wood.
28
The arrow cannot make him flee: Sling-stones are turned with him into stubble.
29
Clubs are counted as stubble: He laugheth at the rushing of the javelin.
30
His underparts are [like] sharp potsherds: He spreadeth [as it were] a threshing-wain upon the mire.