Answer:
What is the freedom of birds and the pen of old men?
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.
A beggar's brother went out to sea and drowned. But the man who drowned had no brother. Who was the beggar to the man who drowned?
The more you take, the more you leave behind.
A dagger thrust at my own heart, dictates the way I'm swayed. Left I stand, and right I yield, to the twisting of the blade.
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?