Du coeur de la tempête Dieu intervient - Fernand Saint-Louis
Du cœur de la tempête * Dieu intervient * Job 38-42 * « Comment Dieu va-t’IL intervenir ? Il est …
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1 "Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord?2 Can you put a rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw through with a hook?3 Will he make many petitions to you, or will he speak soft words to you?4 Will he make a covenant with you, that you should take him for a servant forever?5 Will you play with him as with a bird? Or will you bind him for your girls?6 Will traders barter for him? Will they part him among the merchants?7 Can you fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish spears?8 Lay your hand on him. Remember the battle, and do so no more.9 Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Won't one be cast down even at the sight of him?10 None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me?11 Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Everything under the heavens is mine.12 "I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame.13 Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws?14 Who can open the doors of his face? Around his teeth is terror.15 Strong scales are his pride, shut up together with a close seal.16 One is so near to another, that no air can come between them.17 They are joined one to another. They stick together, so that they can't be pulled apart.18 His sneezing flashes out light. His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.19 Out of his mouth go burning torches. Sparks of fire leap forth.20 Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, as of a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.21 His breath kindles coals. A flame goes forth from his mouth.22 There is strength in his neck. Terror dances before him.23 The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm on him. They can't be moved.24 His heart is as firm as a stone, yes, firm as the lower millstone.25 When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid. They retreat before his thrashing.26 If one attacks him with the sword, it can't prevail; nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.27 He counts iron as straw; and brass as rotten wood.28 The arrow can't make him flee. Sling stones are like chaff to him.29 Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin.30 His undersides are like sharp potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge.31 He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.32 He makes a path shine after him. One would think the deep had white hair.33 On earth there is not his equal, that is made without fear.34 He sees everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride."
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1 Voici, quand on l’attend, on est déçu ; A son seul aspect n’est-on pas renversé ?2 Nul n’est assez farouche pour l’exciter ; Qui donc me résisterait en face ?3 Qui m’a fait des avances pour que je le lui rende ? Sous tous les cieux (tout) est à moi.4 Je ne me tairai pas à propos de ses membres, De sa force et de la beauté de son organisme.5 Qui l’a dépouillé de son vêtement ? Qui pénétrera entre ses mâchoires ?6 Qui a ouvert les portes de sa gueule ? Autour de ses dents c’est la terreur.7 Ses orgueilleux et puissants boucliers Sont liés étroitement comme par un sceau ;8 Ils se serrent l’un contre l’autre, Et un souffle ne passerait pas entre eux ;9 Ils sont attachés l’un à l’autre, Se tiennent et ne peuvent se séparer.10 Ses éternuements font briller de la lumière ; Ses yeux sont comme les paupières de l’aurore.11 Des torches jaillissent de sa gueule, Des étincelles de feu s’en échappent.12 Une fumée sort de ses naseaux, Comme d’un chaudron qui bout, d’une chaudière ardente.13 Son haleine allume les charbons, Une flamme sort de sa gueule.14 Dans son cou réside la puissance, Et l’effroi bondit au-devant de lui.15 Les éléments de son corps sont attachés ensemble, Ils sont devenus durs en lui, inébranlables.16 Son cœur est dur comme la pierre, Dur comme la meule inférieure.17 Quand il se lève, les plus robustes ont peur Et s’esquivent, brisés d’effroi.18 Pour celui qui l’approche, l’épée ne sert à rien, Ni la lance, ni le javelot, ni la cuirasse.19 Il considère le fer comme de la paille, Le bronze comme du bois pourri.20 La flèche ne lui fait pas prendre la fuite, Les pierres de la fronde sont pour lui de la paille.21 La massue est considérée (par lui) comme de la paille, Il rit au sifflement du javelot.22 Sous lui sont des pointes aiguës : (On dirait) une herse qu’il traîne sur la boue.23 Il fait bouillonner les profondeurs comme une marmite, Il change la mer en un vase où brûle le parfum.24 Il laisse après lui un sentier lumineux ; L’abîme devient comme la chevelure d’un vieillard.25 Sur la terre nul n’est son maître ; Il a été formé pour ne pas éprouver de terreur.26 Il regarde tout ce qui est élevé, Il est le roi de tous les plus fiers animaux.
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