he seeks out mountains for his pasture, and he searches after every green thing.
He laughs at the roar of the city; he does not hear the driver’s shouts;
Will the wild ox consent to be your servant, or spend the night by your feed-trough?
Now behold Behemoth, which I made along with you; he eats grass like an ox;
Does the wild ass bray over tender grass? Or does the ox low over his fodder?
And anything on which any part of their dead body falls shall be unclean; an oven or hearth shall be broken down; they are unclean; yes, they are unclean to you.