Was probably not a good idea to take a break from writing in the first place.

Translation:

The same old story

She wasn't convinced of my feelings
She thought my love was naivety

With ink and lines I expressed my love
But found her infatuation lay elsewhere

The bookworm, now indulged in drink,
Spirit and water flow through these bloodless veins

But it is pointless to be shrouded in sadness
For it is not mine alone, this is every poet's tale

That same old story