verses submitted by David Mackenzie to the Gaeilge-B mailing list in 1997. I found the the poem (without those annoying translations in brackets!] at:
www.smo.uhi.ac.uk/gaeilge/corpus/dain/micheal_mor.html

MÍCHEÁL MÓR

I heard this story ó mo athair [from my father],
(if you haven't Gaelic it doesn't matter)
This rural Ireland tragic tale
Narrates a sad seductive scéal [story]
Concerning lust without discretion
Agus beagnach rudaí eile freisin.[and a few other little things]

Uair amháin - fadó, fadó, [once upon a time]
On a little farm near Carraroe,
Lived [a] buachaill maith [good boy] named Mícheál Mór,
An only son of thirty four.
When work was done at end of day
He'd settle down with cupán tae [cup of tea]
And seldom felt the call to stroll
Or spend the evening time ag ól[drinking],
His intellectual needs were drawn
From books like Peig and Iosagán.

And so it was bliain in, bliain out [year in, year out]
Our Mícheál hadn't moved about.
He dreamt of cailíns [girls]- most men do-
But never sinned, an dtuigeann tú [do you understand]?

Meanwhile - up in Átha Cliath -
a cailín deas had a bright idea
When laethanta saoire [holiday] time came by
decided she would like to try
áit beag, ciúin,[a quiet little place] like Carraroe.
No foreign food - not far to go
and there to meet the native clan
Agus b'fhéidir{perhaps], find herself a man.

This cailín deas [pretty colleen] with eyes so blue
Was known in town as City Sue.
The lusty buachaillí [lads]came crawling
And all agreed she was go h-álainn.[beautiful]
She left her men in state of shock
Oh Mícheál Mór - bí cúramach ![be careful]

This scarlet woman knows each trick
She's heading west - beware a mhic [sonny]!
The lights shone in the Parish Hall
For the local Fáinne*-wearers Ball.
Bhí Mícheál ann..... Bhí Susie ann....{Micheal was there, susie was there]
Dressed in a most seductive gown.
[*the Fáinne is a badge indicating that the wearer is an Irish-speaker]

Our brave Cuchulainn of the West
His hurling medals across his chest
Exclaimed - when City Sue came in;
"In ainm Dé ! - well féach ar sin !"[in the name of Gaod, well, look at that!]
Though nervous - still - he took a chance
"Céad Míle Fáilte [100,000 greetings] - will you dance ?"
Go luath [quickly], on the floor they strut
Cheek to cheek - from mouth to foot.
She whispered into Mícheál's ear:
"Éist liom [listen] now, let's disappear,
We'll use my place, - the door's unlocked,
You'll stay the night - Seomra a h-ocht".[room 8]

Chríost ! Mícheál's ceann [head] was in a spin,
Ní raibh sé thinking thoughts mar sin ![he wasn't thinking such thoughts]
He blessed himself - this Jezebel
Would surely damn his soul to Hell.
He stood aghast - could hardly stutter
So off he bolted - ar a rothar [on his bike]
And straight abhaile [home] - into bed
Decades of the rosary said.

Mícheál Mór still sleeps alone
In his leaba bheag [little bed]- Ochón Ochón [alack and alas]!
He often dreams of Seomra a h-ocht ....
What might have been, Oh Mícheál bocht[poor] !

shades of Ros na Rún [Irish tv soap with a lot of Bearla thrown in]. Being bi-lingual does extend the range for rhymes!