An arm points north, east, south, then west.
Ever in circles, never pausing to rest.
It passes its brother twenty three times,
As the sun passes by and the moon starts to climb.
What is it?
I make ash, but I’m not a bonfire.
I can expel rocks, but I’m not a slingshot.
I can be a mountain, but I’m not in the Himalayas.
I have a crater, but I’m not the Moon.
I erupt, but I don't have a bad temper.
What am I?
We’re very large though we seem small,
We float on high and never fall,
We shine like jewels in the night,
But in the day concealed from sight.
What are we?
I saw a restless shepherd traveling
Back and forth on his path.
He garbs himself in that which goes
In the same and in an opposite direction.
He goes hither and thither among creatures.
What is it?
Riddle me, riddle me, rin-е-go, mother gave me some seeds to sow. The seeds were black, the ground was white. If you riddle me that, you'll escape my bite.
What are they?
It is energy and motion, it can fly across the ocean.
It can listen and even speak, it can see and even seek.
It eats neither fruit nor gruel, it eats energy and fuel.
Better say: It doesn't eat; It is transformed into heat.
What is it?
The shape of my form will waver and bend
By the things I’m destroying and those I will rend.
My color changes from bright red to blue,
The power I’m using will dictate my hue.
What am I?