Answer:
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. Whoever knows it, wants it not
What is the thing which, once poured out, cannot be gathered again?
My first is an insect; my second is a border; my whole puts the face in a tuneful disorder.
I have one door and five rooms what am i
Plow and hoe, reap and sow, What soon does every farmer grow?
What is always coming but never arrives?