Answer:
Halo of water, tongue of wood. Skin of stone, long I've stood. My fingers short reach to the sky. Inside my heart men live and die.
He has married many women but has never married.
We are five little objects of an everyday sort. You will find us all in a tennis court.
What is that which, though black itself, enlightens the world without burning?
My second is performed by my first, and it is thought a thief by the marks of my whole might be caught.
What gets broken if itβs not kept?