Answer:
At night I come without being fetched. By day I am lost without being stolen.
Voiceless it cries, Wingless flutters, Toothless bites, Mouthless mutters. What is it?
I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I lick will soon turn red.
I have legs but walk not, a strong back but work not. Two good arms but reach not. A seat but sit and tarry not.
It is a path of cow juice spread across the sky but cannot be seen by the naked eye
What goes up the hill and down the hill, And spite of all, yet stand still?