Asenna Steam
kirjaudu sisään
|
kieli
简体中文 (yksinkertaistettu kiina)
繁體中文 (perinteinen kiina)
日本語 (japani)
한국어 (korea)
ไทย (thai)
български (bulgaria)
Čeština (tšekki)
Dansk (tanska)
Deutsch (saksa)
English (englanti)
Español – España (espanja – Espanja)
Español – Latinoamérica (espanja – Lat. Am.)
Ελληνικά (kreikka)
Français (ranska)
Italiano (italia)
Bahasa Indonesia (indonesia)
Magyar (unkari)
Nederlands (hollanti)
Norsk (norja)
Polski (puola)
Português (portugali – Portugali)
Português – Brasil (portugali – Brasilia)
Română (romania)
Русский (venäjä)
Svenska (ruotsi)
Türkçe (turkki)
Tiếng Việt (vietnam)
Українська (ukraina)
Ilmoita käännösongelmasta
They swing their axe with aimless rage, i goon in peace, then set the stage.
You chase the goal, but miss the flow. A gooner knows just when to go.
With gooning first, set the tone. The final hit is mine alone.
I stare, i loop, i learn the tree and then i chop it easily.
I don't attack the wood with fear i goon untill the path is clear.
Some say to strike and never think but gooners pause and never sink.
They mock the time i goon alone. Yet wonder how i break the stone.
Some train with force, some train with fire. But gooners train with calm desire.
Four hours in, i know it well. Then one clean hit, and down it fell.
Gooning first is not delay. It's how we master work and play.
⠀⠀⠘⠓⡴⢊⣁⣤⣤⡄⣿⣿⣏⡈⠈⠑⠀⠀you
⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⢾⢿⢿⣿⣷⣷⣿⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿⣵⡄⠀♥♥♥♥
⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠳⣿⣿⣿⣿⠸⠋⠁⠈⢹⠁⠀⠀a
⠀⠀⢠⣿⣷⡘⠇⠀⠀⡀⠸⠿⠿⢿⠀⠀⠀⡀⠿⢀⠀⠀rabbit?
⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⠶⢒⣺⡛⠛⠓⢂⡺⢷⣴⣶⣿
⠀ ⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣬⣛⠛⠋⠻⢟⣩⣷⣾⣿⡟
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⡿⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿⣽⣿
⠀⢀⣴⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⡠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀
⣰⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⢏⣼⣿⣷⣦⣝⣉⣴⣶⣶⣄⡙⠿⣿⣆
⣿⣿⡟⣱⠀⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣀
⣿⣿⡾⣡⡾⠛⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀
⣿⡟⠱⠏⣠⣶⣢⣆⡙⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣆⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⢁⡷⡀
⡟⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⡀⠙⢻⣿⡗⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣶⣾⣿⡇⠀
⠀⡀⠀⣼⠛⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⡀⠀⣀⡀
⠀⠣⡀⣿⣄⠣⠃⢻⣿⡿⢛⢛⠻⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡆
⠑⠤⣈⠽⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣤⣈⣁⣰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠁
⠑⠒⠒⠒⠉⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠤⠤⢊⣀⣀⠀⠀⠙⠟⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠘⢄⠉⠒⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⢿⣦⣿⡄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠉⠒⣿⣿⡛⢿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠉
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠹⣿⡿⢸⣿⣿⠀⢠⣶⣦
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⡏⠀⠸⣿⣿⣾⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⢀⣼⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠟⠛⠉⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⠟
⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠋⠁
⠀⠀⠀𝓗𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴𝓮𝓷𝓭