Answer:
Give it food and it will live, give it water and it will die.
In the night a mountain, in the morning a meadow.
A harvest sown and reaped on the same day In an unplowed field, Which increases without growing, Remains whole though it is eaten Within and without, Is useless and yet The staple of nations.
My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe.
What get wet while drying
What begins and has no end? What is the ending of all that begins?