Answer:
Through its wounds, water does run. It once held many but now has none. What is it?
I am the outstretched fingers that seize and hold the wind. Wisdom flows from me in other hands. Upon me are sweet dreams dreamt, my merest touch brings laughter.
Though desert men once called me God, today men call me mad. For I wag my tail when I am angry. And growl when I am glad.
What turns everything around but does not move?
Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out, He who takes it wishes it had never come about
Written on with words of white, Has the color of the night, Is the teacher's best delight, And a student's daily fright