Answer:
Within, I clean all that is bad and is old. I make juice thatβs the color of gold. Should I die, a filter machine would you need assembled to replace me and beans I resemble.
You'll see savory dishes in Hong Kong sizzling in these.
Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain. Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What liquid can contain the soul?
I am the hole in the night, the ever watchful eye. I return in a cycle, to enlighten the sky.
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?