It was spring, followed by summer, and their nights were beautiful, and the chanting of the curlews did not cease from spring to autumn, and it continues to reverberate until winter silences it. What the listener hears most of all in the outskirts of Heliopolis, where I live and where this strange bird is common: Because he is familiar with the outskirts of deserts, close to crops and water, as if he were the owner of one of those hermitages inhabited by ascetics between the desert and the Nile. He has a beloved frequenter from Heliopolis.
I have an affinity with the curlew since ancient times, and I composed the poem "Nunya" in it, at the beginning of which I say:
Do they hear nothing but the echo of the curlew?
A voice flutters in the second watch

Abbas Mahmoud Al-Akkad