[ASMR] Night train love poems [SFW]

Transcript

Tonight, I wanted to take you on a journey to faraway places to relax you and warm you up and tell you about love from all over the world and the train is such a soothing way to travel so I thought we could be in our own private little sleeper car and you can lie down put your head in my lap cuddle up to my thighs while I lean over you like this and whisper the poems to you and of course I brought my fluffy blanket so let me float it down over you oh there you can just feel its weight resting on you that's no good and remember if you drift off don't worry I'll carry you home and make sure you wake up all safe and bed oh yeah the first poem I'm going to read you comes from Poland true love true love is it normal? is it serious? is it practical? what does the world get from two people who exist in a world of their own placed on the same pedestal for no good reason drawn randomly from millions but convinced it had to happen this way and reward for what?

for nothing the light descends from nowhere why on these two and not on others? doesn't this outrage justice? yes it does so doesn't it disrupt our painstakingly erected principles and cast the moral from the peak?

yes on both accounts look at the happy couple couldn't they at least try to hide it fake a little depression for their friend's sake listen to them laughing it's an insult the language they use deceptively clear and their little celebrations rituals the elaborate mutual routines it's obviously a plot behind the human race's back it's hard to even guess how far things might go it's hard to even guess how far things might go if people start to follow their example what could religion and poetry count on? what would be remembered? what renounced? who'd want to stay within the bounds? true love is it really necessary? tact and common sense tell us to pass over it in silence like a scandal in life's highest circles perfectly good children are born without its help it couldn't populate the planet in a million years it comes along so rarely let the people who never find true love keep saying there's no such thing their faith will make it easier for them to live and die this next poem is from Germany it's called you never arrived you never arrived in my arms beloved who were lost from the start i don't even know what songs would please you i've grown up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment all the immense images in me the far-off deeply felt landscape cities towers and bridges and unsuspected turns in the path and those powerful lands that were once pulsing with the life of the gods they will rise within me to meet you you who forever elude me you beloved who are all the guidance i have ever gazed at longing an open window in a country house and he almost stepped out pensive to meet me and he almost stepped out pensive to meet me streets that i chanced upon you had just walked down and vanished and sometimes in a shop the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and startled gave back my too sudden image who knows perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday separate in the evening this poem's from Scotland oh it's called Valentine not a red rose or a satin heart i give you an onion it is a moon wrapped in brown paper it promises light like the careful undressing of love here it will blind you with tears like a lover it will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief i'm trying to be truthful i'm trying to be truthful not a cute card or a kiss of ground i give you an onion its fierce kiss will stay on your lips possessive and faithful as we are for as long as we are take it its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring if you like lethal its scent will cling to your fingers cling to your knife this next poem is from Brazil it's called the ground is a bid the ground is the bid for urgent love love that doesn't wait to reach the bid on the carpet or the hot floor we arrange into a composition wet body to body then to rest from love we go to bed this next one's from USA rain has drops sun has shine moon has beams that make you mine rivers have banks sands for shores hearts have beats hearts have beats that make me yours needles have eyes though pins may break elmer has glue to make things stick winter has spring stockings feet pepper has mint to make it sweet teachers have lessons so does your lawyers sue bad folks doctors cure all in all this much is true you have me and I have you this one is from Syria it's called when I love you when I love you and your language springs up new cities new countries discover the hours breathe like puppies wheat grows between the pages of books birds fly from your eyes with tidings of honey caravans rise from your breasts carrying Indian herbs the mangoes fall all around the forests catch fire and Nubian drums beat when I love you your breasts shake off the shame turn into lightning and thunder a sword a sandy storm when I love you the Arab cities leap up and demonstrate against the ages of repression and the ages of revenge against the laws of the tribe and I, when I love you march against the ugliness against the kings of salt against the institutionalization of the desert and I shall continue to love you until the world falls apart and I shall continue to love you until the world flood arrives I shall continue to love you until the world flood arrives this little poem is from France it's called The Sweetheart the water that curses the shore the rose that opens itself to the breeze the wind that laughs beneath the leaves everything says that to love is a pleasure from two lovers the same flame knows doubly how to make them happy those who are indifferent have but one soul but when we love we have two this last poem is from Africa it's called African Love Song neither the moist intimacy of your eyelids fear as phenol nor the violence of your body withholding behind sheets nor what comes to me as your life will have so much slender mercy for me as to see you sleeping perhaps I see you sometimes for the first time you with your chest of guava and grape your hands as cool as spoons your haughty grief stain every corner blue we will endure with each other even if the sun curls the rooftops even if the state cooks cliches we will fill our hearts with love our hearts with colour and the fireworks of finches even if my eyes ride a rag to the horizon even if the moon becomes bareback.