I am small as an ant and big as a whale, I can soar through the air like a bird with a tail. I can be seen by day and not by night, I can be seen with a big flash of light. I follow whoever controls me by the sun, but I fade away when dark fell like a ton.
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air.
What does man love more than life, fear more then death or mortal strife, what the poor have the rich require, and all contented men desire. What misers spend and spendthrifts save and all men carry to the grave?
In marble walls as white as milk, Lined with skin as soft as silk, In a fountain crystal clear, A golden treasure does appear. There are no doors to this stronghold, Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.