then let mine arm fall from my shoulder blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone.
then let my wife grind unto another, and let others bow down upon her.
For destruction from God was a terror to me, and by reason of his highness I could not endure.
let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle instead of barley. The words of Job are ended.
And from the wicked their light is withholden, and the high arm shall be broken.
If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.