The sea roared, raising waves.
The birds' piping chirps filled the air with a roar.

The sea roared, raising waves.
The birds' ringing twitter filled the air with a roar...

Alexander Matschin,
But he greeted the deserted beach with silence.
Having forgotten his bright, pre-summer spirit.

Alexander Matschin,
But he greeted the deserted beach with silence
Having forgotten his bright courage until summer...

Vadim Bogdanov,

Alexander Matschin,
But he greeted the deserted beach with silence
Having forgotten his bright courage until summer...

Vadim Bogdanov,

Alexander Matschin,
But the deserted beach greeted me with silence
Having forgotten my bright, pre-summer spirit...

Vadim Bogdanov,

There's no silence here, but the stormy sound of the surf,
so much so that even the birds have risen and are flying, not touching the sea...

Vadim Bogdanov,

There's no silence here, but the stormy sound of the surf,
so much so that even the birds have risen and are flying, not touching the sea...

Alexander Matschin,
And the waves will clear with a white shroud
the shore, once filled with a noisy crowd...

The sea roared, raising waves.
The birds' ringing twitter, blanketing the air with a roar...

Alexander Matschin, Good evening, Alexander. Thank you for your poetic perspective. Yes, poems and photos sometimes go well together. By the way. The part about the beach and courage didn't work out very well. It wasn't very romantic. Perhaps it would be better this way:
And your footprints, washing away from the shore,
Cover memory with a white shroud...