Knowest thou the time when the mountain goats bring forth? Hast thou observed when the hinds calve?
Canst thou number the months that they fulfil, and knowest thou the time when they bring forth?
How they crouch down, they bring forth their young ones, and dismiss their pain.
Their young ones are healthy, they grow up with grain; they go forth and never return unto them again.
Who freed the wild ass, and who loosed its bands?
Unto whom I made a house in the wilderness, and his dwellings in the salty land.
He laughs at the multitude of the city, neither does he hearken to the voice of the exactor of tribute.
The range of the mountains is his pasture, and he searches after every green thing.
Will the unicorn be willing to serve thee or abide by thy crib?
Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow? Will he harrow the valleys after thee?
Wilt thou trust him because his strength is great? Or wilt thou leave thy labour to him?
Wilt thou trust him, that he will bring home thy seed and gather it into thy barn?
Didst thou give beautiful wings unto the peacock, or wings and feathers unto the ostrich?
Who leaves her eggs in the earth and warms them in dust
and forgets that the foot may crush them or that the wild beast may break them.
She is hardened against her young ones, as though they were not hers, not fearing that her labour is in vain,
because God caused her to forget wisdom and did not give her understanding.
In her time she lifts up herself on high; she scorns the horse and his rider.
Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?
Canst thou make him leap as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is formidable.
He paws at the earth and rejoices in his strength; he goes forth to meet the armed men.
He mocks fear and is not afraid; neither does he turn his face from the sword.
The quiver rattles against him, the glittering spear and the shield.
He swallows the ground with fierceness and rage; the sound of the shofar does not trouble him;
for the blasts of the shofar fill him with courage; he smells the battle afar off, the thunder of the princes and the sound of the battle-cry.
Does the hawk fly by thy industry and stretch her wings toward the south?
Does the eagle mount up at thy command and make her nest on high?
She dwells and abides on the rock upon the crag of the rock and the strong place.
From there she seeks food, and her eyes behold afar off.
Her young ones suck up the blood; and wherever the slain are, there she is.