Answer:
You heard me before and then again. Afterward I die until you call me again.
I stay where I am when I go off. What am I?
I have a name written on me, but it isnβt my name. Men plant me, but I never grow. They look at me and see their future, rotting in my bloom.
I am a mountain at night, meadow at day. What am I?
I hold two meanings. With one I may be broken, with the other I hold on. What am I?
Give it food and it will live, give it water and it will die.