29A club seems to him but a piece of straw;

he laughs at the rattling of the lance.

30His undersides are jagged potsherds,

leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.

31He makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron

and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment.

32Behind him he leaves a glistening wake;

one would think the deep had white hair.

33Nothing on earth is his equal—

a creature without fear.

34He looks down on all that are haughty;

he is king over all that are proud.”