Audra walks down the dormitory hall
in white socks, blue jeans, t-shirt: and her eyes,
black and beautiful, keep me in their thrall.

My twenty-first, this autumn. Dead leaves fall
to the dark earth. And this poor sinner cries
for joy when Audra passes through the hall!

Soon December's winds will bite and brawl;
but her kind face outshines the glowering skies.
So beautiful. I am her helpless thrall.

Slender she is, and not extremely tall.
Luminous as the day-star. Sadness dies
each time sweet Audra passes through the hall!

She is my life, my light, my queen, my all:
her voice (that perfect and divine surprise,
Black and beautiful) keeps me in its thrall.

Forgive, O Lord, this feeble-witted scrawl:
my soul is on its knees and dares not rise!
Black and beautiful, Audra walks the hall,
vanquishes me and holds me in her thrall.