Answer:
I row quickly with four oars but never comes out from under my own roof.
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.
When I live I cry if you don't kill me I'll die.
I mean goodbye for South Americans.
What gets bigger the more you take away?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?