¹⁵ My mouth^[a] is dried up like a potsherd,^(A)
    and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;^(B)
    you lay me in the dust^(C) of death.

⁶ May my tongue cling to the roof^(A) of my mouth
    if I do not remember^(B) you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem^(C)
    my highest joy.

⁴ Because of thirst^(A) the infant’s tongue
    sticks to the roof of its mouth;^(B)
the children beg for bread,
    but no one gives it to them.^(C)