Traditionally, those who are considered great in a standard sense leave tangible, physical legacies behind them. They win awards, people name things after them, people build monuments to them, and so on.
In this poem, though, the great leave a different legacy behind them. Instead of being celebrated by crowds of people, their names are celebrated by "waving grass." The clouds celebrate them, as does the wind. In other words, the great leave no coarse or crude legacy. Instead, nature celebrates them, invisibly.
These natural forces celebrate the great because of the superior quality of their spirits and their passions. Rather than focusing on money or winning battles, the great spent their lives fighting for life. That's a subtle thing, but a lovely one, yes?
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