Here's a literal translation of a poem called I nGarrán na Bhile (In Garnavilla), by one 'Pleasant' Ned Lysaght. I don't know the author of the original, I've seen a name, but will settle for 'Anon.' until convinced. The point is that a literal translation can stand against a fancy reworking.
Have you ever been in Garnavilla,
Or have you seen in Garnavilla
The gay young girl of the golden locks,
My sweetheart, Kate of Garnavilla?
She's whiter than the swan on the pool,
Or the snow on the crest of the bending bow;
Her kiss is sweeter than the dew on the rose,
My sweetheart, Kate of Garnavilla.
Her song is more tuneful than the blackbird or thrush,
Or the nightingale on the willow bough;
Like a ship in sail on the mistless wave
I see my sweet in Garnavilla.
The original with another English version is here.