Answer:
What is the freedom of birds and the pen of old men?
In your fire you hear me scream, creaking and whining, yet I am dead before you lay me in your hearth.
Iron on a mammal. Mammal on your feet.
I can be moved. I can be rolled. But nothing will I hold. I'm red and I'm blue, and I can be other colors too. Having no head, though similar in shape. I have no eyes - yet move all over the place.
I have three hundred cattle, with a single nose cord
I am your mother's brother's only brother in law. Who am I?