After the leaves have fallen, we return
To a plain sense of things. It is as if
We had come to the end of imagination,
Inanimate in an inert savoir.
It is difficult even to choose the adjective
For this blank cold, this sadness without cause.
The great structure has become a minor house.
No turban walks across the lessened floors.
The greenhouse never so badly needed paint.
The chimney is fifty years old and slants to one side.
A fantastic effort has failed, a repetition
In a repetitiousness of men and flies.
Yet the absence of the imagination had
Itself to be imagined. The great pond,
The plain sense of it, without reflections, leaves,
Mud, water like dirty glass, expressing silence
Of a sort, silence of a rat come out to see,
The great pond and its waste of lilies, all this
Had to be imagined as an inevitable knowledge,
Required, as a necessity requires.
-- Wallace Stevens, "The Plain Sense of Things"
Joseph is released from his Egyptian jail, as the result of an interpretation: he has released Pharaoh from the perplexity of his double dream, by translating the imagery of fat and lean cows, of healthy and blasted ears of