⁴ The tongue of the sucking child cleaves to the roof of his mouth for thirst: The young children ask bread, and no man breaks it to them.

¹⁵ My strength is dried up like a potsherd. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have brought me into the dust of death.

¹¹ My eyes do fail with tears, my heart is troubled; My liver is poured on the earth, because of the destruction of the daughter of my people, Because the young children and the infants swoon in the streets of the city.

¹² They tell their mothers, Where is grain and wine? When they swoon as the wounded in the streets of the city, When their soul is poured out into their mothers' bosom.

²⁴ [They shall be] wasted with hunger, and devoured with burning heat Bitter destruction; The teeth of animals will I send on them, With the poison of crawling things of the dust.

⁶ Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I don't remember you; If I don't prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy.

¹¹ All her people sigh, they seek bread; They have given their pleasant things for food to refresh the soul: Look, Yahweh, and see; for I am become abject.

⁹ Or who is there among you, who, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone?

¹⁰ Or if he asks for a fish, who will give him a serpent?

¹¹ If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!