Dont Imitate Me - Analysis

A master telling you not to follow him

The poem’s central claim is blunt: copying a poet’s manner is a dead end. “Don’t imitate me” sounds like a teacher speaking, but the command undermines the usual teacher-student arrangement. Bashō refuses the kind of discipleship that produces replicas. The tone is brisk and slightly teasing; the poem doesn’t beg you to be original, it almost shrugs and says imitation simply isn’t worth your time.

Why imitation is “as boring” as a melon split

The comparison does the real work: imitation is “as boring / as the two halves of a melon.” Two halves are perfectly matched—same color, same shape, same sweetness—so there’s no surprise in looking from one to the other. That sameness becomes a small, domestic image of aesthetic failure: art that merely mirrors an existing style gives you duplication, not discovery. The phrase “as boring” is important too: Bashō doesn’t condemn imitation as immoral; he calls it dull. The poem’s tension sits right there: a famous poet issues a memorable line you’re tempted to repeat, yet he’s warning you that repeating is precisely the problem.

The implied alternative: not rebellion, but attention

By choosing a melon—ordinary, touchable, not grand—Bashō hints at what replaces imitation: direct contact with the world in front of you. Instead of making your poem the “other half” of someone else’s poem, make it the fruit itself: something encountered, cut open, and tasted fresh.