Far far away on the other side of the world there lived mighty Tsar Dadon. He was fierce and bold in his prime. But as he grew older he became weary of fighting and wanted to pass the rest of his days in peace. His neighbours considered this a weakness in him and began to harass him with surprise attacks on his tsardom. They annoyed him greatly and he thought much about how to rid himself of this constant trouble. So he called his court astrologer to ask him for advice. The old astrologer came to the Tsar with a golden rooster in his bag. He told Dadon to set the rooster on a high tower saying: "My golden rooster will protect you very well." In return Dadon promised to fulfill any of the astrologer's wish.
The rooster sat on his perch and when he sensed danger would ruffle up his feathers and crow turning to where the trouble was brewing, addressing Dadon by name, crying:

"Cock-a-doodle-do!
I have this to say to you……"

Thus a year passed. Dadon's neighbours realized that they could not take the Tsar by surprise and stopped trying. The rooster kept watch quietly on his perch, and peace reigned in the country.
But one day the ruler was woken to be told that the golden rooster was crowing and violently pointing toward the east.
The Tsar sent his eldest son in that direction at head of a great army.

Eight full days went by like magic
No news came glad or tragic
Had a battle taken place
Or had they still one to face?

On the ninth day the rooster shrilled once again pointing in the same direction as before. Dadon sent his youngest son in charge of a second army.
Another eight days passed, but there was no news of either of the sons, and when the rooster raised the alarm again Dadon himself led an army to the east. They marched day and night, and on the eighth day saw in the valley between two mountains a magnificent silken tent and in a ravine lay the slaughtered armies.

Tsar Dadon in sudden dread
Nearer drew…Before him, dead
By each other's swords pierced through,
Lay his sons, his falcons two.
With their steeds, of movement shy,
Wandering in the field nearby
O'er the crushed and bloody grass…
"Oh, that this should come to pass!"
Cried out Dadon, and beat his breast.
"That my sons, my falcons blest
Should be trapped and die this wise,
Indeed, my death, alas, has come,
And all is lost!"

All of a sudden, out of the tent appeared a maiden, the Tsarina of Shamakha (the name itself originates from the Trans-Caucasian Shemakha principality annexed by Russia in 1805), and Tsar Dadon

Like a night-bird in the sun
Stood stock still a blinking
At the maiden, no more thinking
Of his sons, the dead and gone.
And she smiled at Tsar Dadon -
Bowing, took his hand and led him
Straight into the tent, and fed him
Royally, and her guest
Tenderly she laid to rest
On a bed with gold brocaded,
By her silken curtains shaded.
Thus, bewitched, entranced, content
With the maid a week he spent.

Finally, Dadon declared that he had to return to his tsardom and that she should go with him.
Long before their arrival people gathered outside the city for word of Dadon's return had travelled faster. As they approached the gates the astrologer appeared and greeted the Tsar. Dadon asked him to state his wish and the mage replied that he wanted the Shamakha Tsarina.

"You must be mad! I won't deny
I gave my word, indeed, but why
Reguest a thing, you do not need?
Good man, I pray, rein in your greed."

Having said this, Dadon offered him instead of the Tsarina gold, jewels, his best horses and half his tsardom. The astrologer insisted that he wanted nothing but the beautiful maiden and that Dadon was bound by his promise to grant his wish. The Tsar became outraged and in fit of anger struck the mage with his sceptre. The old man fell and died. Suddenly the rooster flew down from the pole, flapped its wings and pecked the Tsar on the top of his head then soared away. Dadon stood up, groaned once and fell dead.
And the Tsarina of Shamakha? She vanished and was seen no more, just as if she had never been……..

(Based on Pushkin's poem. English language retelling was done by Vadim Shchanitsyn)