GOD Continues Questioning Job

“Do you know the time when the wild goats in the mountains have their babies?
Have you seen the deer bringing forth their young?

Tell me how long they are pregnant.
Tell me the time they give birth,
How they conduct themselves,
And how they ease themselves of their sorrows.

Those young ones are healthy;
They grow up well fed;
They go out into the world.

Who was it made the wild ass free?
Who was it took off those shackles
And gave them the wilderness for a home
And desert as a place they thrive?

They scorn crowded cities
And hate the sound of traffic.
All the mountains are their pasture
And every green thing their food.

“Do you think the unicorn will be your pet?
Might the unicorn pull your plow?
Will you get any work out of him?
Can you trust him with your harvest?

“Did you give the peacocks their wings?
Did you make wings and feathers for the ostrich
That leaves her eggs in the earth
And warms them in the dust,
Forgetting that a foot may crush them
Or animals may find them?

The ostrich has a hard heart
Toward her young ones,
As if they weren’t even hers,
Because God made her that way.
Yet when she stands tall
She scorns both horse and rider.

“Did you give the horse its strength?
Did you give it a mane?
Did you make him jump like a grasshopper?

His snorting is frightening.
He paws the valley floor
And rushes headlong into the enemy.

He laughs at fear,
And is not frightened by the sword.
The quiver rattles against him.
He carries the glittering spear and the shield.
He swallows the ground in his fierceness
And stands firm at the sound of the trumpet.

He says among the trumpets, “Ha!”
And he smells the battle far off,
Hears the thunder of the captains and the shouting.

“Were you wise enough
To give flight to the hawk?

Do you tell the eagle to fly
Or where to make her nest?

She lives in the rocks,
In the highest crags.
From there she watches her prey
And her eyes see far, far off.

Her young ones drink blood
And where there is killing, there she is.”