Answer:
The ones who see it may go blind, Contracting the fool's madness. You have to dig to find it, Crush big stones or mine it. Wash dirt clumps in a pan and wait for it to settle, A shiny, precious metal.
Just head and foot yet never tires of dancing.
Late afternoons I often bathe. I'll soak in water piping hot. My essence goes through. My see through clothes. Used up am I - I've gone to pot.
Sharp and long, flag of the world. What is it?
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.
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.