Answer:
Do you know what you can hold without ever touching it?
Two brothers we are, great burdens we bear. All day we are bitterly pressed. Yet this I will say, we are full all the day, and empty when go to rest.
We are five little objects of an everyday sort, You will find us all in a tennis court.
Held firmly in the hands, like a sword it cuts deep. Bloodless strokes, all, then forward we leap.
What can be heard and caught but never seen?
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?