Which of the men is so prudent and wise as to say who drives me on my path, when I rise up strong, at times severe, powerfully prominent, sometimes vengeful, I travel throughout the land, burn houses. Smoke rises, grey over rooftops. The trees on earth shall be, the violent death of men, when I shake the woods, the flowering forests, fell tall trees, roofed with rain, by the highest powers, driven in my wandering, widely sent; I have on my back what once covered men, body and soul, both in water. Say who covers me, or how I am called, that bears that burden. -Riddles