Answer:
They try to beat me, they try in vain. And when I win, I end the pain.
Something wholly unreal, yet seems real to I. Think my friend, tell me where does it lie?
To cross the water I'm the way, for water I'm above. I touch it not and, truth to say, I neither swim nor move.
In the night a mountain, in the morning a meadow.
What has three ways out and just one way in?
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.