Chapter 39

  Hast thou known the time of The bearing of the wild goats of the rock? The bringing forth of hinds thou dost mark!  

  Thou dost number the months they fulfil? And thou hast known the time of their bringing forth!  

  They bow down, Their young ones they bring forth safely, Their pangs they cast forth.  

  Safe are their young ones, They grow up in the field, they have gone out, And have not returned to them.  

  Who hath sent forth the wild ass free? Yea, the bands of the wild ass who opened?  

  Whose house I have made the wilderness, And his dwellings the barren land,  

  He doth laugh at the multitude of a city, The cries of an exactor he heareth not.  

  The range of mountains [is] his pasture, And after every green thing he seeketh.  

  Is a Reem willing to serve thee? Doth he lodge by thy crib?  

  Dost thou bind a Reem in a furrow [with] his thick band? Doth he harrow valleys after thee?  

  Dost thou trust in him because great [is] his power? And dost thou leave unto him thy labour?  

  Dost thou trust in him That he doth bring back thy seed? And [to] thy threshing-floor doth gather [it]?  

  The wing of the rattling ones exulteth, Whether the pinion of the ostrich or hawk.  

  For she leaveth on the earth her eggs, And on the dust she doth warm them,  

  And she forgetteth that a foot may press it, And a beast of the field tread it down.  

  Her young ones it hath hardened without her, In vain [is] her labour without fear.  

  For God hath caused her to forget wisdom, And He hath not given a portion To her in understanding:  

  At the time on high she lifteth herself up, She laugheth at the horse and at his rider.  

  Dost thou give to the horse might? Dost thou clothe his neck [with] a mane?  

  Dost thou cause him to rush as a locust? The majesty of his snorting [is] terrible.  

  They dig in a valley, and he rejoiceth in power, He goeth forth to meet the armour.  

  He laugheth at fear, and is not affrighted, And he turneth not back from the face of the sword.  

  Against him rattle doth quiver, The flame of a spear, and a halbert.  

  With trembling and rage he swalloweth the ground, And remaineth not stedfast Because of the sound of a trumpet.  

  Among the trumpets he saith, Aha, And from afar he doth smell battle, Roaring of princes and shouting.  

  By thine understanding flieth a hawk? Spreadeth he his wings to the south?  

  At thy command goeth an eagle up high? Or lifteth he up his nest?  

  A rock he doth inhabit, Yea, he lodgeth on the tooth of a rock, and fortress.  

  From thence he hath sought food, To a far off place his eyes look attentively,  

  And his brood gulph up blood, And where the pierced [are] -- there [is] he!