Inshallah

From Oriana Fallaci's 1990 novel Inshallah, set in the last weeks of Italy's participation in the Multinational Peacekeeping Force in Beirut in 1982-3

Then, all at once, the stunning silence that had petrified the quarter broke. And from every street, every alley, every lane, every house, every hovel, every shanty, door, roof, terrace, window, from every hole, a tremenduos chorus arose. A lugubrious chorus of groans and howls and voices that called the dead. The Bashirs, the Ismahils, the Sharifs, the Alis, and the Barakaats killed in Shatila. The Leydas, the Fatimas, the Jamilas, and the Aminas killed beside the Bashirs and Ismahils and Sharifs and Alis and Barakats. And along with that lugubrious chorus, an unusual sound. The inimitable sound that Arab women emit by drumming the tongue against the palate and gurgling a shrill gurgle, a piercing scream made up of infinite screams whose significance changes according to the circumstance, so at times it expresses protest, at times jubiliation, at times grief, and in the last case it is the most unbearable sound you can hear. A sound that seems like a weeping of Cyclopes, a sobbing unuttered by hordes of tortured animals.