Boris Pasternak - Do Not Fret, Do Not Cry, Do Not Tax lyrics

Do not fret, do not cry, do not tax Your last strength, and your heart do not torture. You're alive, you're inside me, intact, As a bu*tress, a friend, an adventure. I've no fear of standing exposed As a fraud in my faith in the future. It's not life, not a union of souls We are breaking off, but a hoax mutual. From straw mattresses' sick wretchedness To the fresh air of wide open spaces! It's my brother and hand. It's addressed Like a letter, to you, crisp and bracing. Like an envelope, tear it across, With Horizon begin correspondence, Give your speech the sheer Alpian force, Overcome the sick sense of forlornness. O'er the bowl of Bavarian lakes With the marrow of osseous mountains You will know I was not a glib fake And of sugared a**urances spouter. Fare ye well and God bless you! Our bond And our honour aren't tamely domestic. Like a sprout in the sunlight, unbend, And then things will a**ume a new aspect.