Truly, the hope of his attacker is false; he is overcome even on seeing him!
He is so cruel that no one is ready to go against him. Who then is able to keep his place before me?
Who ever went against me, and got the better of me? There is no one under heaven!
I will not keep quiet about the parts of his body, or about his power, and the strength of his frame.
Who has ever taken off his outer skin? who may come inside his inner coat of iron?
Who has made open the doors of his face? Fear is round about his teeth.
His back is made of lines of plates, joined tight together, one against the other, like a stamp.
One is so near to the other that no air may come between them.
They take a grip of one another; they are joined together, so that they may not be parted.
His sneezings give out flames, and his eyes are like the eyes of the dawn.
Out of his mouth go burning lights, and flames of fire are jumping up.