Answer:
The ones who see it may go blind, Contracting the fool's madness. You have to dig to find it, Crush big stones or mine it. Wash dirt clumps in a pan and wait for it to settle, A shiny, precious metal.
What can't you see, hear or feel, until its too late. What shadows love, and shopkeepers hate?
At the sound of me, one may dream or stamp their feet, At the sound of me, one may laugh or sometimes weep.
What is it that was given to you, belongs only to you. And yet your friends use it more than you do?
Something wholly unreal, yet seems real to I. Think my friend, tell me where does it lie?
I have two bodies joined together as one. When standing still I run and run.