וְכ֥וֹס פַּרְעֹ֖ה בְּיָדִ֑י וָאֶקַּ֣ח אֶת־הָֽעֲנָבִ֗ים וָֽאֶשְׂחַ֤ט אֹתָם֙ אֶל־כּ֣וֹס פַּרְעֹ֔ה וָאֶתֵּ֥ן אֶת־הַכּ֖וֹס עַל־כַּ֥ף פַּרְעֹֽה׃
Io poi aveva in mano il nappo di Faraone; e prendeva l’uva, la spremeva dentro al nappo di Faraone, e metteva il nappo sulla palma di Faraone.
On Dreams
Again, the cup of Pharaoh, the receptacle of senselessness and wine-frenzy and ceaseless life-long intoxication, is, he says, “in my hand” (Gen. 40:11), that is, in the enterprises which I take in hand, in my projects and faculties, for without the activities of my mind passion by itself will make little headway.