Answer:
What is the freedom of birds and the pen of old men?
Something wholly unreal, yet seems real to I. Think my friend, tell me where does it lie?
Three little letters. A paradox to some. The worse that it is, the better it becomes.
I wear a red robe, with staff in hand, and a stone in my throat.
You use it between your head and your toes, the more it works the thinner it grows.