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Merti

Merti is one of the woredas in the Oromia Region of Ethiopia. Part of the Arsi Zone, Merti is bordered on the south by Sude, on the west by Jeju, on the northwest by the Misraq Shewa Zone, on the north by the Afar Region, on the east by Aseko, and on the southeast by Chole. The administrative center of this woreda is Abomsa; other towns in Merti include Reye. Guna woreda was separated from Merti.

Overview

The altitude of Momina in 1927, which embraces a syncretism of Christian and Moslem beliefs and rituals, is an important local landmark. A lesser one is the Arbagugu state forest. Linseed and teff are important cash crops.

Industry in the woreda includes quarrying and pottery making, 61 small scale industries (including grain mills) that employ 178 people, as well as 727 registered traders 17.6% of whom were wholesalers, 42.4% retailers and 40% service providers. There were 25 Farmers Associations with 14,179 members and 4 Farmers Service Cooperatives with 6958 members. Merti has 148 kilometers of dry-weather and 105 of all-weather road, for an average road density of 197 kilometers per 1000 square kilometers. About 22.7% of the total population has access to drinking water.

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Mademoiselle

by: Murray Head

Mademoiselle remembers too well
How once she was belle of the ball
Now the past she sadly recalls.
Mademoiselle lived in grand hotels
Ordered clothes by Chanel and Dior
Millionaires queued at her door.
Oh, she pleased them and teased them
She hooked them and squeezed them
Until like their empires they'd fall
She very soon learned
That the more love she spurned
The more power she yearned
Until she was belle of the ball.
Oh, Mademoiselle, such a soft machiavel
Would play bagatelle with the hearts of young men as
they fell
Mademoiselle would hide in her shell
Could then turn cast a spell on any girl
That got in her way.
She would crave all attention
Men would flock to her side
Woe betide any man who ignored
For she'd feign such affection
Then break down their pretension
When she'd won she would turn away.
Turn away, thoroughly bored.
Mademoiselle, long ago said farewell
To any love left to sell, for the sake of being belle
of the ball
Mademoiselle knows there's no way to quell
Her own private hell, just a shell,
With no heart left at all.
Poor old Mademoiselle.




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