Behold! Afar where sky and waters meet

A white-robed Figure walketh on the sea

(Peace goes before Him and her face is sweet)

As once He trod the waves of Galilee

He comes again the tumult sinks to rest,

The stormy waters shine beneath his feet.

He sees the dead rose lying the sand,

He lifts the dead rose in His holy hand

And lays it at His breast. 

(Chartres, Annie Vivanti)

As a poet and a writer, Anita Vivanti (Annie) can not be classified into a single literary genre only, nor into a single cultural movement. Born in London, on April the 7th 1866, she grew up in contact with the English culture, and later travelled all over the world, starting to feel at home while in Italy, and getting in contact also with both Germanic and American worlds, assimilating all the different cultures and joining them together in her works, making it quite unique and original. 

She got house arrested during the Anglophobic shift in the Italian fascist policy (she was living in Italy, and embraced Italian nationalistic cause, as well as she and her husband supported the Irish independence cause), but Mussolini allowed her to go back to her home in Turin, where she died on February the 20th 1942, soon after finding out about her daughter's suicide, Vivien (child prodigy of the violin).

She is buried in the Monumental Cemetery of Turin. On her tombstone are engraved the words the Italian poet Carducci dedicated to her: 

Batto alla chiusa imposta con un ramicello di fiori

Glauchi ed azzurri come i tuoi occhi, oh Annie.

(I knock on the enclosed shutter with a slender branch of flowers 

that are sea-green and blue like yours eyes, O Annie.)