An Old Generation

I take up space,
therefore I am.
A celebration,
   for the birth of a volume,
   for the birth of a lined mind,
   for the birth of a striped imagination.
Is this a 27th birthday, or a 1000th birthday?
I feel old.
A ship takes me to the end of the world;
and I fall into a fish tank.
The stupid fish swallows me,
and in its belly, I blow out 27 lit candles.
And again there's darkness.
In the darkness,
   I blow out
          the blown out candles,
          the dead moments,
          and the youth gone.
I'm still blowing. I become empty, and emptier.
   like a wandering balloon.

Translated from wall photos of a friend of a friend on Facebook. I like it, because like many twenty-somethings in Iran, I already feel old.