¹⁵ my strength is ^(A)dried up like a potsherd,
    and my ^(B)tongue sticks to my jaws;
    you lay me in the dust of death.

⁶ Let my ^(A)tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
    if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
    above my highest joy!

⁴ The tongue of the nursing infant ^(A)sticks
    to the roof of its mouth for thirst;
^(B)the children beg for food,
    but no one gives to them.