Warning: if you ever sing Dona Dona to me as a lullaby I will dissolve into a sobbing, crying heap, and not in a good way. There's a reason it's taken me until now to even start typing this.

The song's standard origin myth [that it was written in Warsaw] may not be factual, but it's certainly inextricably linked to the Holocaust now.

It's beautiful--amazingly, transcendently beautiful--but I can't imagine anybody being comforted by it. Moved, shaken, awakened . . . maybe comforted in the sense of "Yeah, life totally sucks, that's the way it is, we're all in it together, let's keep moving." But calm and sleepy? Never.