Job 39

Do you know when the wild goats of the rock give birth?
Do you watch the deer in labor? Can you count the months they fulfill, and do you know the time of their birth? They crouch, bring forth their young, and cast off their birth pains. Their young grow strong and flourish in the open country;
they go out and do not return to them. Who set the wild donkey free?
Who loosened the bonds of the wild ass, whose home I made the steppe, whose dwellings the salt land? He laughs at the city's uproar and does not hear the driver's shouts. He searches the mountains for his pasture and seeks every green thing. Will the wild ox be willing to serve you?
Will he spend the night at your manger? Can you bind the wild ox with his rope in the furrow?
Will he harrow the valleys behind you? Will you trust him because his strength is great, and leave your labor to him? Will you rely on him to bring back your grain and gather it to your threshing floor? The wing of the ostrich flaps joyfully;
are her wing and plumage like the stork's? For she leaves her eggs on the earth and warms them on the dust. She forgets that a foot may crush them, or a beast of the field trample them. She treats her young harshly, as if they were not hers;
she has no fear that her labor may be in vain. For God has deprived her of wisdom and given her no share in understanding. But when she rises on high, she laughs at the horse and its rider. Do you give the horse his strength?
Do you clothe his neck with a mane? Do you make him leap like a locust?
His majestic snorting is terrifying. His hooves paw in the valley, and he rejoices in strength;
he goes out to meet weapons. He laughs at fear and is not dismayed;
he does not turn back from the sword. The quiver rattles against him, the gleaming spear and javelin. With shaking and rage he swallows the ground;
he does not stand still at the sound of the horn. At each blast of the horn he says, ‘Ha!’ He smells battle from afar, the thunder of captains and the battle cry. Is it by your understanding that the hawk takes flight and spreads its wings toward the south? Is it at your command that the eagle soars and sets its nest on high? It dwells and spends the night on the rock, on the rocky crag and stronghold. From there it searches for food;
its eyes look far into the distance. Its young suck up blood, and where the slain are, there it is.”

Rights and attribution