Answer:
When there is fire in me then I am still cold. When I own your true loveβs face then you will not see me. To all things I give no more than I am given. In time I may have all things, and yet I can keep nothing.
You get many of me, but never enough. After the last one, your life soon will snuff. You may have one of me but one day a year, When the last one is gone, your life disappears.
What is put on a table, cut, but never eaten?
Reaching stiffly for the sky, I bare my fingers when its cold. In warmth I wear an emerald glove and in between I dress in gold.
A certain wizard resided in a city made from this gemstone.
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.