Last week we had our Clare Festival of Traditional Singing. One of the guests was Aine Uí Cheallaigh, sean nos singer par excellence. She sang an english translation of Donal Óg and stuck me to the floor, as well as everyone else at the session. It always gets me, in Irish or English, the sheer despair of it all, not to mention the beauty of words and air.   I love Leontyne Price singing O Holy Night and would not let Christmas eve go by without hearing it at least once.