Answer:
Screaming, soaring seeking sky. Flowers of fire flying high, Eastern art from ancient time, Name me now and solve this rhyme.
What holds names and memories which are not its own?
What turns everything around but does not move?
What surrounds the world, yet dwells within a thimble?
Of no use to one, Bliss to two. Men lie for it. The baby’s right,
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?