23. The folds of his flesh cleave together. They are firm on him, immovable.
24. His heart is as hard as stone, even as hard as the lower millstone.
25. When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. Because of his crashings they are bewildered.
26. No sword that reaches him does prevail, neither spear, dart, or lance.
27. He reckons iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood.
28. The arrow does not make him flee, sling-stones become like stubble to him.
29. Clubs are reckoned as straw, he laughs at the rattle of a lance.
30. His undersides are like sharp potsherds. He sprawls on the mud like a threshing-sledge.
31. He makes the deep boil like a pot, he makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
32. He leaves a shining path behind him. One would think the deep to be grey-haired.
33. No one on earth is like him – one made without fear.