Chapter 41
| Collection: | The Book of Job and 42 Paintings |
| Author: | Fr. Antonio Oteiza |
| Type: | Painting |
| Location: | Cataloguing Room |
| Characteristics: | Acrylic paint on cardboard |
| Artwork: |
Click to enlarge |
| Description: |
I will not fail to describe its limbs and its incomparable strength. Who has opened its outer covering and penetrated its double armour? Who has opened the two doors of its jaws, surrounded by terrifying teeth? Its back is made of rows of shields, sealed tightly together without a gap, so closely joined to one another that no air can pass between them. Each is welded to its neighbour; they interlock and cannot be separated. Its sneezing flashes with light, and its eyes gleam like the dawn. Torches come from its jaws and sparks of fire shoot forth. Smoke pours from its nostrils like from a stoked and boiling cauldron. Its breath sets coals ablaze, and flames leap from its jaws. Strength dwells in its neck, and terror dances before it. The folds of its flesh are firm, cast upon it and immovable. Its heart is hard as rock, hard as a millstone. When it rises, heroes tremble and surrender in dismay. The sword that strikes it cannot withstand it, nor can spear, dart, or lance. For it, iron is straw and bronze is rotten wood. Arrows do not drive it away; slingstones become chaff before it. It regards a club as fluff and laughs at the whistling of the javelin. Its belly is covered with sharp-edged scales and rakes the mud like a threshing sledge. It makes the depths boil like a cauldron and the water smoke like an incense burner. Behind it, it leaves a shining wake; the water looks like grey hair. Nothing on earth is its equal, for it was created without fear. It faces everything that is lofty and is king over all the wild beasts. Yet the hope of overcoming it is disappointed. Will even God be brought down at the sight of it? It will not be gentle when provoked. Who, then, can stand before me? Who has confronted me and come away unharmed? Everything under heaven is mine.” |
