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Let’s imagine that Ary dos Santos was still alive today… with Facebook and Instagram. With access to social networks. And just imagine this because the rest, we can even calculate what it would be. A party. With everything in the mix.
It is this Ary that interests us. The person. The man. For it was from this man that one of Portugal’s best contemporary poets was born.
The Blood of Words. Ary’s words. Ary’s gift of speech. Bloody words because they put their finger on the wound. Because they are a weapon. But it is in him that we also find our soul. Our true soul. As long as the human being is against any injustice, no matter what or what kind, there will always be an Ary. We are all Aries. And the concept we have about freedom and justice goes far beyond our political color, or even any other color.
O Sangue das Palavras follows the life of this poet, passing through many of his most beautiful sung poems.
It is this Ary that interests us. The Ary of the songs that are still sung today. But neither talent nor immense gift could fill the sadness and deep loneliness that inhabited him. And it was that loneliness that put an end to this restless soul.