Answer:
The root tops the trunk on this backward thing, that grows in the winter and dies in the spring.
Feed me and I live, give me drink and I die.
Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out, He who takes it wishes it had never come about
I am a box that holds keys without locks, yet they can unlock your soul.
Bury deep, Pile on stones, My mind will always Dig up them bones
A Chinese, Indian and a Swiss were going to a party. Who is most likely to bring a plus one?