Answer:
I'm full of holes, yet I'm full of water.
By Moon or by Sun, I shall be found. Yet I am undone, if there's no light around.
A thousand colored folds stretch toward the sky. Atop a tender strand, rising from the land, until killed by maiden's hand. Perhaps a token of love, perhaps to say goodbye.
What can be measured but not seen?
Four of us are in your field, But our differences keep us at yield, First, a one that is no fool, Though he resembles a gardener’s tool, Next, one difficult to split in two, And a girl once had one as big as her shoe, Then, to the mind, one’s a lovely bonder, And truancy makes it grow fonder, Last, a stem connecting dots of three
You use it between your head and your toes, the more it works the thinner it grows.