Though we live in a world that dreams of ending that always seems about to give in something that will not acknowledge conclusion insists that we forever begin. So ends Brendan Kennelly's poignant cry for renewal, 'Begin', the seed of this new collection of echoing poems. Kennelly has listened to the voices of poems written over forty years to assemble a living testament to the redeeming power of poetry, making connections across time in his work and with the world, setting up reverberations 'where there was only the consolation of ordinary emptiness'. As in Cromwell and The Book of Judas, those voices include some we might not think we want to hear, from the likeable bus driver who'd been a Black-and-Tan to the man-mirroring evil of the man-obliterating bomb. In poems about ignorance and learning, the good and the bad, men and women, the Dubliners he's known and the country people he grew up with, politicians and killers with causes, Kennelly hears echoes of violence, childhood, love, history, hurt and laughter, but with recurring hints of some hope in self-renewal - and with each poem setting off echoes of further echoes. Like all writers who take risks with life and language, he returns obsessively to saints and sinners, mad-ness and appearances, desolation and decency. For Brendan Kennelly, a lifelong teacher, echoes are a kind of education: 'Education is as much a matter of crafty concealment and manipulation as it is of stylish accent and sophisticated expression. It's amazing the way ignorance, hatred and prejudice endure and thrive under the educated skin. So much civilised living is an educated skin. We should be careful how and where we scratch.'