For the leader

May his days be few; may another take his office.
May his children be fatherless, his wife, a widow.
May his children wander and beg, driven from their hovels.
May the usurer snare all he owns, strangers plunder all he earns.
May no one treat him with mercy or pity his fatherless children.
May his posterity be destroyed, their name rooted out in the next generation.
May his fathers’ guilt be mentioned to the Lord; his mother’s sin not rooted out.
May their guilt be always before the Lord, till their memory is banished from the earth,
For he did not remember to show mercy, but hounded the wretched poor and brought death to the brokenhearted.
He loved cursing; may it come upon him; he hated blessing; may none come to him.
May cursing clothe him like a robe; may it enter his belly like water, his bones like oil.
May it be near as the clothes he wears, as the belt always around him.