11 Wilt thou trust him, because his strength is great? Or wilt thou leave to him thy labor?
12 Wilt thou confide in him, that he will bring home thy seed, And gather `the grain' of thy threshing-floor?
13 The wings of the ostrich wave proudly; `But' are they the pinions and plumage of love?
14 For she leaveth her eggs on the earth, And warmeth them in the dust,
15 And forgetteth that the foot may crush them, Or that the wild beast may trample them.
16 She dealeth hardly with her young ones, as if they were not hers: Though her labor be in vain, `she is' without fear;
17 Because God hath deprived her of wisdom, Neither hath he imparted to her understanding.
18 What time she lifteth up herself on high, She scorneth the horse and his rider.
19 Hast thou given the horse `his' might? Hast thou clothed his neck with the quivering mane?
20 Hast thou made him to leap as a locust? The glory of his snorting is terrible.