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'Do you know the time when the wild mountain goats bear young? Or do you observe when the deer gives birth?
Do you number the months they complete? Or do you know the time when they bear young?
They bow down, they bring forth their young, their labour pains are ended.
Their young ones are thriving, they grow up in the field. They shall leave and shall not return to them.
Who set the wild donkey free? Who loosed the bonds of the wild donkey,
whose home I have made the desert, and the salt land his dwelling?
He laughs at the commotion of the city; he does not hear the shouts of the driver.
The range of the mountains is his pasture, and he searches for all that is green.
Would the wild ox be pleased to serve you? Or spend the night by your feeding trough?
If you bind the wild ox in the furrow with ropes, would he plough the valleys behind you?
Would you rely on his great strength? Or would you leave your labour to him?
Would you trust him to bring home your grain, and gather it to your threshing-floor?
The wings of the ostrich flap joyously, but they are not the pinions and plumage of kindness!
She leaves her eggs on the ground, and warms them in the dust;
and she forgets that a foot might crush them, or a wild beast tread on them.
She treats her young harshly, as if not hers; her toil is in vain, without fear,
because Eloah has made her forget wisdom, and did not endow her with understanding.
When she lifts herself on high, she laughs at the horse and its rider.
Have you given the horse strength? Have you covered his neck with a mane?
Would you make him leap like a locust? His splendid snorting is frightening.
He paws in the valley, and rejoices in strength. He gallops into the clash of arms.
He laughs at fear, and is not frightened; nor does he turn back from the sword.
The quiver rattles against him, the glittering spear and lance.
He eats up the ground with fierceness and rage, and he does not stand still when the ram's horn sounds.
At the blast of the ram's horn he says, 'Aha!' And from afar he smells the battle, the thunder of commanders and shouting.
Does the hawk fly by your wisdom, spreading its wings toward the south?
Does the eagle mount up at your command, and make its nest on high?
It dwells on the rock, and lodges on the crag of the rock and the stronghold.
From there it searches out the prey, its eyes see it from afar.
And its young ones suck up blood. And where the slain are, there it is!'