It is raining here. Is it raining there too?

Why do I ask? I ask as I gain(saw),
How this good green grass holds its beloved rain.
And my memory then pulls me back into your arms,
Into that tenderness and warmth, and your sorcerous charm.
Which takes me to the night of that moon,
When the clouds were layered like some reef round a lagoon.
And it was all silverish-blue as if your gaze
Fixated on my smile and the blush on my face;
'Oh! how dear I found myself to be then.'
Thence, this feeling makes my mind wander to when
The sky was in its roseate glow of dusk,
Just like your rosaceous cheeks in that winter; picturesque!

Ah! Suddenly now, it rains much heavily here,
So, tell me, my darling, that it rains there too.