• -Mariana Pineda, 1998, Bruselas
• -Marinero en Tierra, 1999, Bruselas
• -Campos de Castilla, 2000, Bruselas
• -Isabel de España, 2001, Madrid
• -José Hierro de poesía joven, 2003, Feria del Libro de Madrid
• -Joaquín Benito de Lucas, 2004, Ayuntamiento de Talavera de la Reina (Toledo)
• -Antonio Carvajal, 2005, Ayuntamiento de Albolote (Granada)
• -Dolores de la Cámara, 2006, Ayuntamiento de Frailes (Jaén)
• -María Agustina, 2006, Lorca (Murcia)
• -José Agustín Goytisolo, 2006, Barcelona
• -Premio Especial por Andalucía, 2007, Asociación Al-Ándalus de Burgos.
• -Conrado Blanco León, 2007, Ayuntamiento de La Bañeza (León)
• -Premio Arte Joven 2008, Comunidad de Madrid.
• -Villa de Lucena 2009, Ayuntamiento de Lucena (Córdoba)
• -Margarita Hierro 2009, Centro de Poesía José Hierro, Getafe (Madrid)
• -Mujer Crea 2009, Concejalía de la mujer, Ayuntamiento de Lucena (Córdoba)
• -Accésit del Premio Adonáis 2009, Madrid
• XXVI Premio Internacional de Poesía "Antonio Oliver Belmás"

ALFAMA

Estação de Santa Apolónia (Alfama)

Desci numa daquelas estações

onde ao chegar ninguém te pendura

uma grinalda de cravos laranja.

E lá fora a cidade, acesa

entre pontes metálicas e hotéis

com cheiro a toalhas e a salitre,

nessa hora precisa

em que os vendedores se diluem,

e deixam somente amontoados

o que resta da feira e do milho.

Então, apenas então,

na sala de espera a transbordar

de viajantes sentados sobre as malas

tive a lucidez do desencontro.

Olhei o azul celeste colonial

que tinham os muros, a evocar

velhas cartas de amor datadas em Havana.

Alfama vespertina

Morei num território

onde a algaravia ia subindo

sobre as praças de verdes azulejos.

Cheirava a alfavaca

que chegava em molhos das frutarias

ou a alguma dessas mercearias

familiares e com rumor de bairro,

com uma lentidão de aveia e camomila.

Então percebia que a minha angústia

cabia no tugúrio

de um sapateiro humilde, em marteladas

de presságios funestos. O teu hermetismo

pesava sobre aquele entardecer

dos barcos de carga, e eram vermelhas

as margens do rio Tejo.

Traducciones al portugués de Alèx Tarradellas

TATUAJE

Yesterday in Kathmandu

This was the same city,

 though we crossed it in different times.

I arrived at the beginning of the century, around dusk.

In the balcony of that hotel facing

a rooftop and narrow streets of bazars,

I fought the glaring light, recomposed

a few fragments from the past

and in this city paralized by strike and hunger

I finally understood how far remained

-the ditches of the years opened-

dusty postcards, golden apples, midday lunches,

May pine forests and at the ports

the fear of returning to the villages

where the future waits, sheltered

among the resigned tamarind trees.

I remember I wandered around the dusty streets,

under the creaking wooden buildings,

but it was too late already,

you had passed by these places

by end century and I could still imagine

your sailor shadow passing through the temples squares,

there was one that had your name.

I saw you fused in the markets and later

through streets of mist and rubbish

with the saunter belonging to those

who get used to exile.

We were linked

by a city out of time,

by the fields of another city in ruins.

I sit by the waters

of a luminous gray, before the lighthouse

lights that illuminates the sailing boats.

Yesterday, it was getting dark in Kathmandu.

Traducción al inglés de Yuyutsu RD Sharma